


Off Grid

by LaughingLombax



Series: Ratchet & Clank: Hyperlynx [1]
Category: Ratchet & Clank
Genre: Based on the Reimagining, Camp Nanowrimo, Gen, No Prior Gaming Experience with the Franchise, Work In Progress, Years of Obsessive Research so Cut Me Some Slack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:05:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 79,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11667861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingLombax/pseuds/LaughingLombax
Summary: Test Your Metal!A mysterious, intergalactic criminal organization, known as Team Darkstar, is bent on turning the Galactic Rangers against each other. But their shadowy sponsor has a more sinister plot in mind for Solana's weapons manufacturer, Gadgetron.Even though Team Darkstar strikes hard, the Rangers stand for justice and will do whatever it takes, go where no Ranger has gone before, in order to stop any evil conspiracy.Will Ratchet & Clank keep the team together long enough to see their plan pull through?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Come back every Saturday for new chapters!  
> I'm currently going through writing up the final portion of the story and editing each chapter before posting, but I will do my best to keep updates regular.
> 
> Attention: just so you know, some elements from the original series have been changed to keep with the reimagined theme. Some names and places have been changed or recreated altogether, but don't worry. I'll be sure to let you know what's what when they come around and I hope it still retains some of its original charm.
> 
> Based on the characters created by Insomniac Games.

“Following the latest recapture of the escaped convict, Shiv Helix, Solana’s finest in the Galactic Rangers have begun a series of demonstrations across the galaxy to inspire heroism in the hearts of its people. Fans of all ages come to be trained by their heroes of the field: Brax Lectrus and Cora Veralux. Young Ranger-hopefuls have come from far and wide to participate in these mock training exercises and hopefully return home with only their dreams crushed and not an arm or leg. Yikes! Likewise, aspiring nerds and future computer hackers retreat to the Hall of Heroes in Aleero City in order to learn the mystical art of matrices and numbers from none other than Elaris herself.

“But despite the pleading of the crowds that come from kilocubits around, no one will find our favorite and only Lombax or his tiny warbot friend, Ratchet and Clank, at the proceedings. Recent findings have led the media to believe that these heroes had their humble beginnings here at Grimroth’s Workshop, where they repaired ships—with style!”

The screen showed several young and happy Tharpods and Rilgarians with tricked-out rides, one of which’s hovercar had inexplicably begun to float backwards and out of sight of the camera, the owner oblivious to the event.

“However, a recent interview with the owner of the business has left the whereabouts of our Galactic Duo in the shadows once again.”

An elderly Fongoid was seen bending over the hood of a hovercar with a jittery Tharpod holding a bright orange toolbox up to his chest, unable to take his eyes off the camera.  
“Business was picking up after Ratchet and Clank saved the galaxy,” Grim grumbled as he worked, grabbing some pliers from the boy. “It became too much for just the three of us--"

"Four!" A robot sang out in the background as he flew past with his own toolbox and out of sight.

"So I hired a couple extra hands--”

“Like me!” the Tharpod squeaked, grinning foolishly.

“Yes, like you, Ollie,” Grim rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers for another tool. Ollie mindlessly handed an adjustable wrench to his employer, waving afterwards and whispering to the camera, “Hi, Mom!”

“Anyway, I eventually got so much help that he had too much time on his hands and got the bright idea to start his own garage.”

“And where might this new competitor business be?” the anchorwoman asked. The boom-mic came down closer to the Fongoid’s head as the news crew anticipated the answer. Grim’s face barely contained his annoyance and he grumbled as he got back to work.

“He’s not a competitor, he’s still trying to set up shop somewhere. Hasn’t gotten back to me in weeks.” Grim leaned on the hood of the hovercar, contemplating the circumstances of his ward. The boom-mic tapped him on the head and he instinctively ducked, but punctured an oil valve in the process, spewing oil everywhere and covering the mechanic, smiling lackey, and news crew before the camera forcibly faded out to black.

“And there you have it: like superheroes of legend or the elusive Chupacabras of Rionosis, Ratchet and Clank evade the public eye once again, camera shy as ever…we really need to find a new topic.”

The television screen was turned off and a tall, fox-like creature turned towards a desk, the occupant sitting in the shadows. “He won’t be any problem, sir,” the Cazares grinned, leaning on one leg and crossing his arms. “Just another featherbrained Ranger. Worse, he’s a fanboy.”

“The recent defeat of Chairman Drek doesn’t resonate well with your theory. How can I be sure of your success?” replied the other, folding his hands on his desk and leaning back in his squeaky office chair.

“Drek didn’t hide in the shadows like me and my men,” the other continued, running a gloved hand through his blond hair in irritation. “Besides,” he narrowed his eyes, sneering. “I have my own grudge against the Galactic Losers. I’ll see to their downfall.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody's perfect. I went back and fixed a typo, realizing that the species is Tharpod and not Thauropod...how I got the later spelling, I'll never know.


	2. Chapter 2

Ratchet and Clank walked down a sidewalk in Aleero City on the metropolitan planet, Kerwan. Both walked with an air of agitation until Ratchet finally heaved a sigh and kicked a discarded can out of his way and stopped. “Who knew finding a place to set up shop would be this difficult?”

“I did try to warn you of the unlikelihood of finding suitable lodgings in the city,” Clank replied apologetically. “There are just too many shops here already and starting another one would be--”

“Near impossible, I know.” The Lombax heaved another sigh and sat down on a crate outside a closed building. He leaned back against the window and shaded himself under the awning. “I just thought the commute would be faster than finding a place on Veldin, in case the Rangers needed us to jump into action, you know?” He frowned even as he said it aloud.

“Ratchet, it has been months since Drek and Dr. Nefarious were defeated on the Deplanetizer. The Rangers have not called for us since then and the galaxy is relatively peaceful. I do not think that any villain out there would be willing to attack after such an episode.”

“But they might,” the other grinned hopefully.

Clank had to squint at his friend for a moment before stating his mind. “I do not believe this sort of behavior is appropriate, Ratchet.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” The Lombax hopped off the crate and began walking again, avoiding Clank’s gaze.

“You’ve been craving battle ever since the encounter with Dr. Nefarious,” the little robot jogged to catch up with him.

“Craving battle? Nah, I’m just bored, that’s all.” Ratchet waved his hands to toss Clank’s idea away. “Things have been slow lately.”

Clank turned to look ahead. “Indeed. With the extra staff at Grim’s workshop, we have had a lot of time on our hands.”

“Too much time,” Ratchet groaned. “And a shop in a busy city is bound to give us something to do, right?”

“That would be the proper assumption,” Clank agreed, though still eyeing his friend with worry. “But we still have to find some property in the meantime.”

Ratchet peered at a clock on the side of a building as they passed by. “Yeah, and it’s nearly lunch time.” His stomach began to growl and he chuckled. “How’s about we take a break from all this and look for a place to eat instead.”

Clank nodded in agreement, even though he couldn’t eat, but they had been walking around since early that morning with little success. They could both use a break. Walking up to an information board, they found a café and made their way to it.

They entered a brightly lit building squatting between two large apartment complexes. A plump-nosed Fongoid turned around behind the counter and grinned. “Hey! If it isn’t our famous Rangers,” he huffed. “What can I do for Solana’s finest at Mulligan’s Metro Café?”

“Thanks! We’re looking for something to eat, or, well, at least I am,” Ratchet smiled, leaning up against the counter. “Whatcha got?”

“A fine assortment, a fine assortment! Worthy of a Ranger’s palate, anyway,” Mulligan laughed and gave an extra cough to end it. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to a picture as proof of his café’s worth. “Brax Lectrus himself used to stop by here as a cadet. He always wanted a Hoolifarian hoagie, practically dowsed in mustard! A family recipe.”

“If it’s good enough for Brax, it’s good enough for me!”

“That’s what I like to hear!” The Fongoid smiled and turned, throwing some patties on the grill. “So what brings you by this neighborhood, Captain?”

Ratchet tried to smother his pride at his promoted title and instead focused on pulling up a stool from the counter. Clank attempted to sit beside him in the opposite stool, but slipped in the climb. Ratchet reached down and pulled him up. “There ya go,” he grunted, before turning back to Mulligan. “We’re shopping around for a place to set up a garage, but so far, no luck.”

“Would you happen to know of a reasonably priced building here in the city?” Clank asked. “Your building is most impressive and I believe you would have a keen eye for such a place.”

Both Ratchet and Mulligan laughed at the compliment. “Smooth talker,” the owner replied, turning to better see the little robot over the counter. “You’re that co-technicians expert, am I right? Working alongside that dame, Elaris?”

“That would be correct, but I am also co-captain, along with Ratchet.”

“Sure, of course,” the Fongoid winked and flipped a patty mindlessly. “Yeah, I know of a few places, but the neighborhoods aren’t your type, gents. Anything ‘reasonably priced,’ as you say, would be near the back alleys.”

“Sounds like home, to me,” Ratchet smirked.

“Ah, that’s right,” Mulligan gave another huff, straightening his deli cap. “I saw it on the news earlier this morning. You two are used to the boonies, coming from a place like Veldin, no offense. You might be right, you could fit in, but that doesn’t mean that customers will want to flock there. Still, there’s a chance they might come to see you, Co-Captain of the Rangers.” This was directed at Ratchet before he turned to serve up the sandwich.

“Uh, I think you mean, Captain,” Ratchet couldn’t help himself in correcting the other.

“Ha! That’s rich, almost as rich as this mustard,” Mulligan added that last part softly after licking some of the yellow sauce off his finger.

Ratchet didn’t feel like eating anymore. He slid the plate towards Clank and leaned forward. “What are you talking about? After Qwark was demoted, they placed me as Captain of the Galactic Rangers.”

“See, that’s the thing. Who’s ever heard of a captain outside his office? Who’s gonna do all the paperwork?”

“Paperwork…?” Ratchet leaned back and shared a look with Clank. First time he ever heard of there being any extra work with the title.

“Yeah, so they hired another captain, or co-captain, as the case may be, to do all the office work while you get to come in when the call for action takes place. Hm. What would that make you?” He stroked the curved obsidian horns on his head as he observed Clank. “The co-co-captain? Sounds like a secretary, or a barista.”

Ratchet and Clank blinked in surprise.

“Wait,” the Fongoid suddenly understood. “You mean to say you didn’t know all this? Well, sheesh! The new captain’s been installed for the past few months.”

Ratchet turned in the chair and hopped off. “I think we need to head over to the Hall of Heroes and see who this new co-captain is,” he stated thoughtfully, marching out the door.

Clank lifted a finger, as if to tell him to wait, but it was too late to call out. Mulligan laughed and ended it with a cough. “So, I guess you get the bill, then?”

*** 

Outside the Hall of Heroes was a massive gathering of people. It was the homecoming concert of the Galactic Rangers and there was hardly enough room to move around the crowd. But it was a feat that the recently demoted Private Qwark had learned to maneuver from years of signing autographs and mobbing fans. Although, this time they weren’t coming to see him, but the other three Rangers: Cora, Brax, and Elaris.

Qwark’s job for the evening, assigned by the new Captain, was to guide people to where they needed to go. He knew the area better than even some of the Galactic Ranger troops, who patrolled the grounds hourly. However, these skills were underwhelmed by minor requests. “The food court’s on the third floor and elevators are under maintenance,” he told one woman. If someone wanted to find the training grounds, Qwark pointed to the large path and signs that would take them straight there. If they wanted to find the classroom in which Elaris was giving her lectures in, he told them which hallway to take inside and what door to look for. And if someone asked which way was the bathroom, he told them what he had found to be the quickest route was through the garden—“watch out for the sprinklers”—past the newly installed fountain in the courtyard, and around the corner with the water cooler by the broom closet.

It was humiliating, to say the least. Once a proud Captain, a really proud Captain of the Galactic Rangers, demoted so far as to give directions to the bathroom. Qwark decided to get off his aching feet for a while and sat on a low wall away from the crowds. He slouched there, looking at the little cadets running around in Ranger blue, but none in Qwark green. He thought he saw someone wearing it once, but it turned out to be a wrinkly grandmother wearing a green dress, beanie, and a grey wig.

“Even I deserve better than this!” Qwark kicked at the dirt.

“Uh, Qwark?” someone said from behind him.

He heaved an enormous sigh and pointed to his left. “There are literally signs all over the place pointing out the bathroom. You’d think that people would get through their heads by now that we take high priority in hygiene!”

“I’m not interested in the bathroom, but thanks for the info.”

Turning around, Private Qwark was pleasantly surprised at the sight of Ratchet and Clank. “Hey! If it isn’t my biggest fans!” he laughed, grabbing them and tossing them up into his arms for a strangling hug.

Unable to breathe, Ratchet resisted and kicked out of the death-like-grip, but laughed nervously after he caught his breath. Qwark gasped and dropped Clank once Ratchet had managed to break free. “You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be seen! Do you have any idea what the people will do when they find out--!”

“Ratchet’s here!” Someone called from the crowd. A loud chanting of “Ratchet! Clank!” drowned out all other noise in the city as the people surged forward.

“This way!” Qwark grabbed Ratchet by the back of his collar and the top of Clank’s head, giving them no choice but to move their feet as they were dragged along. Qwark dropped them after a while so they could make more ground. The people started falling back, though their cheers didn’t subside. Qwark saw another group heading their way and urged the two heroes to run through the training course to lose them, he himself being swallowed by the two waves of people combined.

Little ranger-hopefuls were struggling under the careful watch of a stern, young Markazian woman, fearfully and respectfully known only as Cora Veralux, and a few other Galactic Ranger troopers. The children were to traverse the course, crawling under plastic meshes, around swinging tires, and over a rock wall. Ratchet, taking Clank’s outstretched hand, swung him up and onto his harness on his back. It was time for action.

He jumped and soared over the meshes as kids were crawling underneath. “Hey, Cora!” Ratchet called, waving as he sped through the track. Running up the wooden platform to the swinging tires, he jumped on top of one and let it swing around so he could skip part of the track and reach the rock wall. Running and vaulting up with a twist, he landed on his hands at the very top just as a little kid reached it. The boy gasped as he came to the top and met with Clank’s cheerful green eyes. Clank chuckled at the Fongoid’s surprise and Ratchet turned around on his hands to give a wink before flipping over and heading towards the advanced training course. The kids all cheered, running up the rock wall to lean over the other side and watch. Cora even smiled and joined them to watch the two as they headed towards Brax’s class.

This section of the training course was more up Ratchet and Clank’s alley. Primarily parkour, it consisted of bars to vault over, poles to leap from one to another, and ropes to swing from. Some of the older students were fighting mildly with training bots in a small clearing to the side, but everyone not on the track was distracted by the little Galactic Ranger and robot as they moved through the course like it was mere child’s play.

The Lombax swung from one bar and around another like any acrobat could, but then he leapt from there and towards one of the higher poles jutting up from the ground a little distance off, a seemingly impossible gap to make across. It wasn’t out of reach with Clank’s help. He transformed into a heli-pack, propellers coming from his hands and head to push them farther forward to make the jump. Leaping two poles at a time, Ratchet and Clank passed several contestants who were trying not to lose their balance. Some, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the Rangers, did lose their footing and landed in the mud below.

Shooting off his swingshot, Ratchet’s grappling claw grabbed the bar supporting the ropes. The two then swung around the people on the ropes. The robot then gave a high five to one of the Rilgarians they passed who had commented, “Wicked, man!”

Letting the swingshot retract, Ratchet landed with a final flip in front of the towering Ranger, Brax, who had watched the whole scene with his arms crossed. “So,” Ratchet stood up, stumbling back a step and out of breath, though smiling all the while. “Do we make the cut?”

The tall, gruff creature raise a thick, leathery brow from behind his high-tech shades as he stared down the small cat-alien. Ratchet didn’t waver under his gaze. “Once a Ranger, always a Ranger,” Brax grinned. Then they high-fived and shouted, “To the max!” Brax’s catchphrase.

Clank jumped off of the harness and gave a quaint fist-bump to the fierce Ranger. Brax laughed heartily, “It’s good to see you guys again.”

“Well, ya know, we were in the neighborhood,” Ratchet responded jokingly.

“More precisely, we are moving into the neighborhood,” Clank corrected.

“Then we should be seeing you both more often,” Cora came over to their little group, the crowds right behind her. “We can finally test you to your limits properly. No more speed runs.”

Qwark by this time had stumbled out of the crowd to reach the four of them. Composing himself, he shrugged smugly and said, “Everyone knows I completed the track in half that time when I was a cadet.”

“Sure, Qwark,” Ratchet smiled, though a little reservedly. Qwark’s pride had gotten them into one problem before, sabotaged and captured by Drek, an alien Blarg who was working with an even more sinister villain, Dr. Nefarious. Ratchet and the others had hoped that the demoted Captain would have learned to be a little humbler by now. But perhaps pride was just a part of Qwark that would never be erased.

Cheers came from the building above and they all turned to see Elaris and her class clapping and whistling out the windows. Elaris waved at the two, and they waved back. The Lombax’s own pride began to bubble up inside of him, but a cough from Clank and a shared look reminded him the reason why they had come here.

“Oh! Right,” Ratchet grimaced, pushing down all other thoughts and feelings. “Could someone show us to the _Captain’s_ office?”

Clank was not pleased with his friend’s sharp tone, but before he could say anything, Qwark eagerly pushed forward. “Sure! Anything to get me off of bathroom duty—erm, I mean, anything for you guys!” Ratchet laughed, dispelling some of Clank’s fears, and they followed him inside.

*** 

“Excuse me…excuse me,” a young woman’s voice came from the crowd outside the Hall of Heroes. People slightly shifted enough room for her to make her way to the steps, but then she came to a standstill. A group of young Tharpods refused to acknowledge the traveler’s requests to move. The kids held action figures of the Galactic Rangers and pretended a mock-battle between them.

“Brax would beat Qwark any day,” the one growled at the other boy.

“Nuh-uh,” his brother held his prized collector’s item close to him. “This is _Captain_ Qwark, back when he fought against the Progs, not the new Private Qwark.”

“Crash, Donnie, you guys are so lame,” a little girl replied, shoving the two away from each other. She held an Elaris doll, presumably homemade, under one arm. “They work as a team, not against each other.”

Crash began to laugh, “Not in this game! It all comes down to survival of the fittest.” He pushed his Brax action figure into her arm, making her drop her doll.

“Hey!” She stooped to retrieve it. It had dirt on the little face, staining it. She tried to dust it off, but it smeared, making her gasp.

“Puh-lease, Tessa” Donnie returned. “As if Elaris could do anything useful.”

“Oh, yeah?” The little Tharpod wheeled on them, clutching her doll fiercely in one hand. “Then why are you two nimrods here? The Brax and Cora training sessions are on the other side of the building.”

“We only came to witness a nerd in her natural habitat,” Crash slapped her shoulder good-naturedly. “That and our mom made us, so.” He gave a halfhearted shrug.

“Some friends you are,” Tessa muttered. “Bunch of bullies, is more like it.”

“What’d you call us?” Donnie’s voice rose to a boyish squeak. Startled, Tessa took a step back and stumbled onto the steps, her backpack bursting open and spilling her doll collection onto the ground.

“Alright, break it up!” The young woman placed her hands on the two boys’ shoulders and pushed them out of her way. “I won’t have any fighting here outside the training courses.”

“Sheesh, fine. We’re outta here,” Crash shrugged off her grip and marched off with his brother, knocking their Brax and Qwark figures together in continuing their earlier combat.

The young woman was a foxlike creature, a Cazares, and was not too pleased with how things had just played out. She noticed the girl picking up her dolls after they spilled out of her backpack. “Here, let me help,” she responded, picking up the Elaris doll. “I’m sorry I didn’t do something sooner, Tessa, was it?”

“That’s alright,” the Tharpod replied, taking the doll and smiling at it before turning to smile at her. “You got them to leave me alone.”

“And they’re your friends?” the other replied, doubtful.

“Most of the time, just not when it comes to favorite heroes.”

“I see,” the Cazares chuckled. The young woman took pleasure in seeing the girl’s homemade crafts as she handed each one to Tessa to place in her backpack. There was a Cora doll with ribbons for hair and a Brax doll with bedazzled shoulder guards. Picking up an unusually plump Qwark doll, a little stuffed Lombax and robot were uncovered. She paused and stared at them. The Lombax doll’s yellow-orange fur stood out among the dirt and the green button eyes smiled up at her. Shoving the Qwark doll into the girl’s hand, she suddenly stood up. “You better get that. I’ve gotta get going.”

“Where are you off too? Hey, you look familiar,” Tessa called, peering at the young woman as she walked up the steps. “I didn’t catch your name!”

The Cazares ignored her calls and kept walking. She proceeded through the gates and down several hallways before coming to an office with a tall impressive door. It slid open from above and then slammed shut when she entered. On the other side, she leaned up against it and let out a deep, exasperated sigh as she prepared for what the day had in store for her.

She pushed away from the door and walked around the desk, piled high with papers. Pulling the seat up to one stack, she knelt on it so she could peak over at the top sheets. “Wait, this is all still from yesterday! That means--”

The door suddenly opened up and a Galactic Ranger robot walked in with two large stacks of paper perfectly balanced in each hand. “I love this job!” he smiled. “No competition, no stress--except maybe on the trees,” he plopped each stack on top of the others on the desk, “and no dangerous battles. Did I ever tell you the story ‘bout how my brother, Earl, lost his foot in the battle of Corotex City, Ms. Sasha?”

“Several times,” the young woman grunted, bringing her chair around the desk and shoving its back against it. She tested its stability before standing on top of it.

“Well, I’ll spare ya the details then. ‘Specially about how he had to wade through the sewers with his one good leg during the retreat and how the enemy had invaded every public bathroom available, hoping to 'flush him out' and—oops! Almost forgot about the packages coming in for Ms. Elaris. Gotta head towards the mail room again.”

“Thanks, Job,” Sasha managed to say as she stretched for the top papers. She wasn’t short for her age, but perhaps too young for the job she had taken on. She reminded herself, though, that she had earned this position through her intelligence and combat skills that went above and beyond her age. Yet, at this moment, she felt very small as her fingers barely brushed the top few papers. No, you’re not small, she thought to herself. These stacks are just impossibly tall!

“Living the dream!” the robot continued, lost in his fantasies. As he strolled out of the room, he let two visitors walk past him and into the office. “G’ morning, Captain! Clank!” he greeted as he walked on.

“What?” Sasha turned to see, but lost her balance. She, the chair, and all the papers fell to the floor and on top of the two visitors.

All three of them shouted in surprise and waited for the papers to stop falling. Ratchet sat up and Sasha pushed him back down while he was still dazed. Frustrated, she waded through the mess, snatching clusters of paper and righting the chair again. Ratchet sat up again and looked about the floor. “Clank? Where are you, pal?”

A muffled, “Here!” came from his left and a little red antenna popped out of the pile. Ratchet tossed the papers aside and uncovered the robot. Paperclips were magnetized to his face and body and Clank pried them off, but found difficulty flicking them from his metallic fingers.

“What are you doing here?” Sasha snapped, slapping the papers onto the desk. 

“Hold up a sec, I could ask you the same thing,” Ratchet got up and glared at her, defensive by her harsh tone of voice. “This is my office, kid.”

“No, it’s the active Captain’s office,” the other groaned, pulling up her chair and grabbing a pen to begin the paperwork.

“And that would be…?”

“Me,” she slammed her pen down before it reached the page. Both Lombax and robot jumped in surprise. The Cazares frowned at the two heroes and said slowly, so as to not be misunderstood, “ _Captain_ Sasha Phyronix of the Galactic Rangers, definitely not at your service.”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ratchet snapped back now even more irritated by her introduction.

“Ratchet, please, be nice,” Clank pleaded.

“She started it,” the Lombax mumbled.

“We did not come here to interrogate her, only to find some answers. Our sincerest apologize, Ms. Phyronix.”

Sasha scribbled noisily on some of the papers before her, ignoring her guests.

“Allow us to introduce ourselves, then,” Clank began, but Ratchet shook his head at him.

“I think she already knows, pal.” Bending over, he scooped up several stacks of paper and straightened them against his knee. He slid them on the desk towards her and she seized them, placing them on top of the new stack. He gave her a long look, trying to decide what made a pretty Cazares like herself so angry with him. Not only that, but wasn’t she a little…?

She caught the look after lifting her head from her current papers and snapped, “What?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Ratchet blinked, looking away for a moment. “I was just thinking that, uh, you looked maybe a little, erm, you know, like you might be....”

Sasha raised a brow. "Young?" She tried her best to point the same question back towards him through her piercing brown eyes. At least she accomplished something on a daily basis while he spent each day playing with an OmniWrench under open skies, for all she knew. She wondered just who the real kid was here. When Ratchet didn’t respond to her silence, she rolled her eyes. “Look,” she said, pushing a button on her desk. The door automatically opened up behind them. “As rare a gift it is to have visitors, I really have no time for chitchat and must ask you to leave.”

“Alright,” Ratchet restrained his annoyance, but defiantly put his hand on the desk. “So, when do you have time?”

“What’s it to you if I have any time?” Sasha didn’t look up from her work this time, though she scribbled with fury. Her short auburn hair shielded her face from him as she hunched down and turned to focus on the work ahead.

“Well, seeing as we both share the rank, _Captain_ , I think we should at least make an effort to get to know one another.”

“That is why we came here in the first place,” Clank had finished making neat stacks of paper at the base of the desk. He wasn’t entirely sure what Ratchet had hoped to find when they got here. However, neither had Ratchet and he looked around the office sheepishly.

“Right, so, tell you what,” pushing away from the desk, the Lombax obliged the active captain enough to walk back to the threshold. “We’ve got things of our own to do and this wasn’t a really good first impression for any of us. We can meet up after today and try again. What d’ya say?”

Ratchet was trying to make an effort, Sasha would give him that, but he had no idea of the amount of work she had to do. Not only had she work from yesterday to finish, but also twice as much work to get done today. There was the proceedings going on outside, bills to address, a new security system to install—she had to keep the whole Hall of Heroes shipshape.

“Let me think about that,” she replied, but dismally pushed the button on her desk again and the door closed, nearly on top of the two.

Ratchet and Clank had jumped out of the way and stared at the door.

“I guess now isn’t a good time to talk about installing that VG-4000 Pro in the game room, huh?” Qwark mumbled. Neither appeared to hear him. Finally, Ratchet broke the mode and stamped one foot forward, unsure of what to say or do. His fists trembled at his sides and he felt on the verge of shouting. Clank simply turned and walked away. It took some time for the enraged Lombax to follow suit.

“Can you believe that?” He stomped along, catching up. “How did _she_ get hired to replace me?”

“This was only a first impression, and it does not appear to be a good day for her,” Clank logically responded.

“Yeah, well, with an attitude like that, I doubt she sees many good days.”

“Give her time and we will try again on better circumstances. The activities outside must be on her mind at the present.”

“I suppose,” Ratchet looked away for a moment. When he looked back, he managed to smile and added, “It wasn’t exactly easy to sneak in here, either.”

“Speak for yourself,” Qwark waved his hands to dismiss the remark. “You don’t have to wade through ankle-biters and get stopped every half-second just to point out where the front door is.” Almost as if on que, a Rilgarian boy stopped him in his tracks and pestered him with questions about the Galactic Rangers. Qwark couldn’t pass up an opportunity to talk about his history with the poor kid and wound up speaking about himself more than any of the active Senior Rangers.

The other two walked away in better spirits, Ratchet and Clank assuring themselves that they would have better luck next time with Sasha. For now, they needed to get back to the task at hand and find themselves a home. 

Ratchet’s stomach growled. Leaning towards Clank, he smiled and asked, “You don’t happen to still have that sandwich, do ya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone hear an echo when Clank said, "Your building is most impressive"? Sorry, I would have written it any other way, but it just seemed so _Clank_ to say it like that. For those of you who don't know, it's a similar quote to what he said in the movie/game when seeing Elaris' office for the first time.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! More chapters to come every Saturday!


	3. Chapter 3

By the end of the day, Ratchet and Clank had seen a few garages, suggested by Mulligan, and finally closed the deal on a small hanger in need of some repair. The front door creaked and groaned as it rolled open to reveal a dirty floor, still containing some boxes from the previous inhabitant, a workbench with a flickering light as it turned on in the back, and a loft above it on the other side. There would be barely enough room for two hovercars if they left only a breath of distance between them.

“It’ll work, trust me,” Ratchet smiled, dreaming up the possibilities. “It just needs some TLC and--” The hanger door completely fell off its hinges and onto the floor with a bang, throwing dust and boxes everywhere. The two coughed and waved the dust from their faces. “Okay, a lot of TLC.”

“And elbow grease,” Clank added grimly.

“You could say that again,” Ratchet placed his hands on his hips, but tried to keep a positive outlook on things. They had finally found a place to call home. “I should probably call Grim, tell him that we’ll start settling in and to send the rest of the gear.”

Clank had bravely wandered in to inspect other potentially hazardous material. “And if he wants to give a professional opinion?” He tapped the rusty pipe ladder to the loft and watched expectantly as it tipped over and on top of the garage door.

“I’ll just keep it a secret. C’mon, he’s not going to care that much about what it looks like, just that we’ve got a roof over our heads.”

“One which any contractor would label as unstable.”

“Which reminds me, what should the business be called?”

Clank listened for only a short time to Ratchet’s suggestions for the business’s name before something caught his eye by the starship. A robo-hound had sniffed right up to it and looked about ready to jump aboard. Ratchet was too busy listing off ideas to notice.

“Ratchet!” Clank pointed as the dog pounced onto the ship.

The Lombax turned and recoiled at the sight of the hefty metallic dog. “Oh boy,” he grimaced, unsure of what to do. Its large mouth was lined with razor-like teeth and its glowing yellow cyclops eye fixed its gaze on him for a second before sniffing around inside the ship. The robo-hound had begun rummaging through one of the boxes. “Hey! Get out of there!”

Ratchet and Clank ran forward to save their stuff. The mutt by that time had found what it was looking for, Ratchet’s OmniWrench. Picking it up, the dog jumped out of the way as Ratchet leapt for it.

Without another word, the two ran after it. Clank, having difficulty keeping up with the speedy Lombax, fell behind. His friend didn’t hear the robot calling for him and Clank decided just to stop running. “Hm,” he hummed in disappointment.

Suddenly, a noise came from the opposite alley. Clank, remembering what Mulligan said about these neighborhoods being treacherous, jumped at the sound and then stood still. Something moved, but it was too difficult to see what it was in the shadow of the buildings. “Hello?” Clank called bravely. “Is someone there?”

Nothing moved and Clank dared not to.

 

The robo-hound had run around a sharp corner and underneath a fence. Ratchet had run so fast and turned the corner too quickly that he couldn’t stop in time. He bashed against the chained fence and grabbed it before falling over. The dog was getting away, taking another turn. “Oh, no you don’t!” Ratchet pushed off the fence and ran back several steps. Looking around, he saw a discarded box next to a closed dumpster. Not taking any more time to think, he ran forward, jumped off both the box and the dumpster and vaulted over the fence, landing with all the grace of a Galactic Ranger.

But in the moment it took for him to land, he realized that he was missing something. Missing someone, that is. “Clank?” He looked back under his arm, disappointed and surprised that his friend wasn’t there. Wasting no more time, he continued to chase after the dog. “I’m gonna have to apologize to him later,” he grunted. “Sorry, pal.”

By this time, the robo-hound had made its way in front of a stationary starship with a masked stranger leaning up against it. Upon seeing the dog, the stranger stood up straighter. “Whatcha got?” The mutt proudly opened its chrome muzzle and dropped the OmniWrench. The alien knelt down and picked it up, examining it through the mask. “What? This isn’t what I asked for,” the owner raged at the dog, who had begun to shrink back in confusion. “Does your software need debugging again? I said to find the--”

“Hey!” Ratchet had finally caught up. He was running full speed at them.

“Never mind, jump in!” Tossing the gadget aside, the two mysterious visitors hopped in the dark starship and started taking off just as Ratchet reached them. The blastoff was more powerful that he had expected and he had to retreat a few steps so as to not get knocked off his feet. Almost as soon as the engine revved up, all traces of the ship disappeared among the airborne traffic above his head.

Ratchet stared up curiously even as he retrieved his OmniWrench. Those two definitely didn’t look like your average Aleero City citizen. “Whatever,” he sighed, swirling his OmniWrench with one hand and moved back towards the fence. Getting over it from this side wasn’t as easy and it took him a few tries before he fumbled over the top and landed not nearly as gracefully as he had before, falling to his hands instead. Grumbling to himself, he dusted off his jeans and orange shirt before continuing on.

As he walked back, he wondered what he should say to Clank. It was rather impulsive of him to rush off without even making sure where the little robot was. Ratchet could have latched him to his harness or even told Clank to wait for him at the hanger, but, as always, he acted before thinking things through. He took his time in getting back simply so he could come up with some sort of excuse. He even wondered if he should mention it at all.

It had gotten dark and the street lamps had flickered on, casting a fiery orange glow to the sidewalks. Hovercar lights above looked like shooting stars to Ratchet as he walked, his OmniWrench safely grasped in his hand. “To think, this happens every night,” he smiled, making wishes on each one of the “stars” above.

“Ratchet!” a familiar voice called. The Lombax looked away from the scene above and located Clank leaning out from one of the alleys. “Ratchet, over here!”

“Clank? What are you doing out here so late? Never mind, you’ll never believe what happened to me earlier.”

“Please, Ratchet, this is an emergency,” Clank urged before retreating down the alley.

All seriousness, Ratchet braced himself as he followed suit, but what he saw was not something he was prepared for. Brax himself was the subject of Clank’s distress. The tough Ranger appeared to be passed out against the wall, signs of a fight here and there in the passageway. Empty boxes torn and burnt from blaster fire. The walls held scorch marks and a broken blaster, one Ratchet didn’t recognize, lay discarded by a dumpster. The nozzle was blackened and had been torn all the way down to the trigger.

“Brax!” Ratchet ran up and knelt beside him along with Clank. The warrior Ranger wasn’t passed out, like the Lombax had thought, much to his relief, but the he was quietly thinking to himself. “What happened?” Ratchet asked, looking over the scene again.

The other Ranger wouldn’t answer, which worried them all the more. “I have already tried talking with him,” Clank blinked his glowing green optics. “He will not listen.” Ratchet frowned with worry. If Brax wasn’t talking and showing off, something terrible must have happened. “I have contacted the Rangers,” Clank said, his red antenna flashing the distress call. “They will be here shortly.”

“Huh?” Brax looked up sharply, as if he had been unaware of the others’ presence. “What are you two doing here?”

“Uh, that’s what we asked you,” Ratchet raised his brow. “Are you okay? What happened here?”

Brax held his head and then noticed the broken weapon on the other side of the alley. Frowning, he tried to stand. “I...can’t remember. Just gimme a minute to clear the ringing in my head...” He rose to his feet, but as soon as his right foot held some of his weight, Brax yelled and faltered in his step. He backed up against the wall to take the pressure off his injured foot and instead hit his sore head on a pipeline. Instinctively, he took a step forward, only to shout again as he put pressure on his ankle.

This process of trying to work through his pain went on for some time, but he was persistent. Ratchet leaned back and sat down next to Clank, staring at the hero as he muttered to himself that, “the pain’s all in your head, Brax. It’s all in your...ankle! Great rolling Kerchu! That smarts!”

He finally gave up and sat down again next to the others, one leg up and propped his elbow on it, the other ankle swollen and worn under his boot. But he didn’t look like he was in pain for long, physically, that is. It was as if the mighty Brax Lectrus had been cut down a few notches in his self-esteem.

“Do you know what happened now?” Ratchet asked again, leaning to the side.

The tall Ranger groaned and leaned his head back. His head met the brick siding of the building. “Ow.”

***

“Brax, if you don’t fess up,” Cora towered angrily over her friend. He was sitting in his chair at the table in the War Room back at the Hall of Heroes. The tall Ranger was still cross with something on his mind, even as the doctor bound his ankle, propped up on another chair. Cora was nothing but hot-tempered ever since picking them up from the alley. “I’m gonna give the doctor a reason to stay longer, to bind up another twisted ankle.”

“I’m paid by the hour,” the doctor said, tying a tight knot. Brax flinched. “So do what you like.” He took it all as a joke, but if he had only looked up at Cora, he would have seen she was dead serious.

They all knew she was just upset that something had happened. A Ranger being caught off guard was the last thing any of them wanted. “I didn’t see anything,” Brax grumbled, leaning his chin against his hand. “I was on my way to the body shop to check on my starship’s new paintjob and heard some rummaging in one of the alleys. When I turned to look--” he punched one hand into his other. Instantly he regretted it and shook the pain from his firing arm. He groaned and laid it in his lap. “Lights out.”

“Our weapons log shows that you used some of your new blasters,” Elaris noted as she pulled up the archives on her tablet. Ratchet and Clank leaned over her shoulder and recognized the broken blaster from the alley, although cleaner and far more impressive without the soot and grime covering its chrome exterior. “But they seem to have malfunctioned.”

“Uh-huh…” Brax squirmed in his chair, though not because of the doctor this time.

“Did you see anything when you regained consciousness?” Elaris asked, leaning forward in her office chair.

“Well, there was Clank, but…”

“If I may,” the doctor said as he was packing up all his stuff into his large black bag. “The contusions in Mr. Lectrus’ ankle show signs of possible contact with something metal, or at least some kind of metallic alloy. There is also a welt on the back of his head that I thought at first was him falling backwards on something, but--”

“Maybe something hit him,” Cora finished, watching as Brax inadvertently reached his hand back to rub his sore, head throbbing at the mention of it. “Out with it Brax!” Her friend shrugged her comment off. She frowned harder just when Ratchet thought she couldn’t look any angrier. “What do you think happened, doctor?”

“Whoa, I’m a medic, not a couch-doctor. I can only tell you what I see, not what I think you think he’s thinking,” with that, the doctor packed up his equipment and excused himself out the door, oblivious to the real anxiety that filled the room.

After an awkward silence, Private Qwark making popping noises in his corner, Cora finally eased up and smiled. It made Brax uncomfortable to see that teasing grin on her fair face. Cora noticed his discomfort. “I knew it!” she snapped, leaning forward. “You’re hiding something! You’ve always acted like this since we were cadets. Something really hilarious must have happened.”

“I do not see how this is funny,” Clank responded from his spot next to Elaris. Ratchet had sat in another seat backwards next to them. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on the back of the chair, tired, but eager to know the full story.

“Well, Brax would only shut up if something embarrassing happened to him.” Cora explained, stepping around the seated warrior. “There was this one time, when we were still in our first year of training, that I had beat him in the judo competition.”

“C’mon,” Brax moaned, “not that one!”

“Yes!” Qwark smiled nostalgically. “A true underdogs’ story. Always hits me, right here.” He brought his fist up to his chest.

“This little girl and this Grapplemania champ were pitted against each other on the mat. Anyone else would have thought it was an unfair match, but our coach knew better. I knocked him out of the circle in under two minutes,” Cora held two fingers up proudly, glancing towards her friend to see if he’d be willing to talk yet. He glared at her, but wouldn’t say anything. “And all the boys laughed at him. They called me Queen Bee because I struck hard and fast. Brax went flying off the stage so easily that they called him….”

The other Ranger shook his head, rolling his eyes up as if to say, “why me?” Grudgingly, he finished, “Butterfly.” Everyone tried not to laugh, but the snickering was enough to break the fierce Ranger. Tightening his hands into fists, he pounded the armrest next to him. “Alright, I’ll talk,” then looking up at Cora from over his shades, “and I’ll talk with you later about this game of yours to constantly embarrass me.” She raised a brow, unfazed by his idle threat.

“So what was it, Brax? Did someone ambush you? What for?” Ratchet was eager to find out, leaning forward on the legs of his chair. He’d avenge his friend and bring this brute to justice. Everyone felt much the same.

“Nothing was stolen,” Brax eventually said, reverting to his thoughtful stance. “It was no mugger.”

“Then what? Blind date gone horribly wrong?” Cora teased, but stopped laughing when Brax ignored her.

“It wasn’t a chick, either,” he rolled his whole head and decided just to get it all out. Gesturing something the size of a small box with his hands, he continued, “It was a robot. A tiny little thing, pint-size, almost literally. It moved too quickly to see much, but it had green eyes, and was smart—like Clank here…”

Everyone grew quiet. Turning, they all stared at Clank. Ratchet’s fur began to crawl as he saw the rising questions in their eyes and slowly looked to his right at his friend. The little robot was too stunned to say anything, but he looked hurt that they would even suggest he had any connection to the crime.

“You did say that Clank was the first thing you saw,” Cora dared.

“Nuh-uh,” Ratchet huffed and pushed his chair forward. He stood up, and leaned over it. “C’mon, guys. There’s just no way. Just a coincidence. And,” he looked at the smallest Ranger and smiled, “it’s Clank we’re talking about. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Clank cocked his head to one side as he processed Ratchet’s words. “Would not hurt a fly?” he muttered, tapping his chin. The little robot’s CPU ran a scenario in his mind of what he might do if a fly was present. Hurting it did not seem to be the primary objective, but would he be willing to swat it? The saying perplexed him, but not so much as the idea that his friends thought him incapable of performing it.

“Ratchet’s right,” Elaris said, reaching over to place a hand on Clank’s shoulder, disturbing him from processing further scenarios and reassuring him of her trust. “Why would Clank even do something like that? It doesn’t make any sense.” She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “But those weapon malfunctions, I’ll need to look more into that. I just got a new shipment of ammunitions earlier today from Gadgetron.”

“Well, then we’ve got a little tin maniac going around town,” Cora placed her hands akimbo and stared at each one of the Rangers. “But the question is, who’s gonna tell the big man?”

“Begging your pardon?” Clank asked, thoroughly baffled.

“You know, little-kid-Captain up in her office.”

“She’s still here?” Ratchet looked up at the ceiling as if he could see straight to the office above. “She sure wasn’t kidding about no free time.”

“Oh, so you’ve met,” Elaris asked, though cautionary for Ratchet’s sake.

“For a moment,” Ratchet managed before groaning and ducking his head at the memory. He moved around the chair and sat on it from the front. “But it didn’t go as planned.”

“Actually, Ratchet, you should go and talk with her,” Brax suggested.

“What?” the Lombax complained.

“Brax is right,” Elaris nodded, always the tactical one. “Both you and Sasha are Captains of the Galactic Rangers, so it’s both of your responsibilities to organize a way to solve this hit-and-run.”

Ratchet didn’t try to conceal his disappointment as he moved towards the door. “C’mon, pal,” he waved for Clank, who ran up behind him. “First impression, take two.”

As the door closed behind him, Elaris, Cora, and Qwark all retreated into their own thoughts. “I wonder,” Elaris voiced, folding and refolding her hands on her lap. “I wonder if there’s more than one attacker. How else could one small robot attack both Brax’s ankle and head?”

“It’s probably just a glitchy robo-hound,” Cora suggested. “No need to overreact.”

Elaris smiled and shoved her fear behind her. “You’re probably right. It must be the hour of the night getting to me.” She got up and headed for the door as well, “I’m gonna go do a quick survey of our new weapon lockers, make sure that there’s no malfunctioning pieces.” She then caught a leer in Qwark’s vigilant gaze towards the opposite corner of the room. “Is something wrong, Qwark? You’ve been awfully quiet lately.”

“Huh? Who, me?” Qwark laughed nervously. “No, nothing.” He stretched and yawned loud and long. “Should probably get some shut eye myself.” He moved towards the open door and cut in front of Elaris, leaving Cora and Brax alone to talk as Brax had insisted.

 

Ratchet and Clank walked down the hallway towards the Captain’s office. Sasha appeared just to be leaving. “Hey! Wait up!”

Sasha paused and closed her eyes. “Captain,” she ground out, turning to face the two. “Are you here to tell me that you’ll be taking my job now?” After a sharp look between her and Ratchet, she added, “What are you doing here so late?”

“That is what we came here to tell you,” Clank stated. “One of the Rangers has been attacked earlier today.”

“Attacked!” Sasha put all resentment behind her and listened for more information. Ratchet and Clank filled her in with the vague details they knew and she listened without a word edgewise. After all this, she headed back towards the office, her tail swishing with agitation at the poor news. The door slid open and she and Ratchet walked inside. “I think you’d better go back to the others,” she said, turning to the little robot behind her. She fumbled with what to say and cast an apologetic look. “Beyond the fact that you’re only co-captain by name, if this case is against a small, green-eyed robot, I….”

“I understand,” Clank nodded reassuringly. Leaving the two of them, the door closed behind him as he left both Captains with an unsettling feeling.

“I hardly think that was necessary,” Ratchet yawned, having found the desk chair a comfortable seat. Sasha cocked her hip and settled an iconic glare at him. Ratchet gave an audible groan and got out of the chair, Sasha taking his place. “Ladies first,” he mumbled.

Sasha pretended not to hear him and switched on the computer screens. “As Captains of the Galactic Rangers, we have to compile the list of suspects.”

“The whole list!” Ratchet nearly fell over at the mention of such a daunting task.

“Lighten up,” Sasha snapped. “The computers do most of the work.”

“Then why not let them run overnight and I can go home get some sleep?”

Sasha folded her hands on the desk and gave a slow, deliberate sigh. “Ratchet, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation.”

The Lombax, too tired to be nice anymore, leaned on the desk with one hand and placed the other fist on his hip. “I know that a friend of mine got hurt tonight and that another has been accused of doing it. That’s serious enough.”

Sasha looked up at him, trying to be sympathetic, but it was hard at this time. She was tired too, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for him, only cautionary. “But out of,” she glanced at the computer screen and Ratchet leaned over to peer at it as well, “eight-thousand-plus robots, Clank is one of them on that list.”

Ratchet blew out a breath and leaned his back against the desk this time, head nodding onto his chest. “He won’t be on it for long.”

“You said he was there after the crime, but where was he before?”

“Well, he was….” Ratchet opened his eyes. Where had Clank been, exactly? Sasha folded her arms and tilted her head, waiting for an answer, blue eyes glistening with unspoken questions. Ratchet cleared his throat, “He was supposed to be right behind me, anyway.”

Sasha made a mental note of that and placed her chin in her hand, droopily. She had been hoping to go to sleep, too. But this news had to be dealt with immediately if anything was to get done. They’d need to figure out what robots fit Brax’s description, where they worked, where they were tonight, and if they were capable of coming to blows with a seasoned Ranger. More importantly, she had to inform Ratchet of something else. She hid her face slightly in her hands as she decided how to tell the Lombax this bit of information.

“Ratchet,” she said after the brief pause, lifting her head. The other Captain had dosed some and jerked awake. “Do you know what the punishment is for a robot attacking an officer?” Ratchet thought about it, or at least appeared to groggily consider what punishments might be in order, but eventually shook his head. Sasha finally did feel sorry for him and straightened up. “They’re sent to the Iron Hold.”

“The bot-prison? Wait, wasn’t that on Novalis? And isn’t Novalis….”

“It’s a reopening of their new building in Blackwater City, on planet Rilgar.” Sasha pulled up another window on the computer screens and Ratchet examined the page.

He read aloud, “‘Iron Hold II. Now reopening and accepting all mechanical, semi-mechanical, and quasi-mechanical criminals of the galaxy. Room and board comes at a new discounted price—’ So, what?” He stretched and gave a big yawn. “He’s innocent. I mean, c’mon. He hardly got his feet wet when we were invading the Deplanetizer.”

“Maybe,” Sasha muttered and leaned forward on her intertwined fingers. “But we’ve got to go through…twenty-thousand plus records before we can make any decision about anyone.”

Both groaned and let their heads drop. It was going to be a very long night.

***

Back in the shadowy office somewhere in the universe, the unknown man at the desk was rapping his fingers across the arm of his chair. He moaned after listening to his partner in crime. “You mean to tell me that this robot of yours didn’t achieve his directive?”

“I didn’t intend for it to,” the blonde retorted. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Lots of fun! Loads of fun! A plethora of pleasurable happenings,” the mysterious employer roared, rocking back in his chair. “What could be more fun than a job well done? It gives a sense of pride and accomplishment and…” he coughed to cover his anxiety and folded his hands onto his desk again, fingers rapping the veneer desktop. “At any rate, my plan will never transpire if you keep this fruitlessness up. Or worse! They’ll catch on to us,” he couldn’t help a squeak of fright worming its way into his voice. He pulled at his antennae, succumbing to his fears. “I wouldn’t doubt it if they apprehended you in a matter of weeks and it wouldn’t be much longer before they found me!”

The other began laughing heartily at his employer’s distress. “But I’ve got all the cards in my hand,” he smiled a toothy grin.

“What’s your game, Ace?” the shadow muttered despondently, never ceasing to pull on his antennae. 

The Cazares took his seat on a red cushioned chair away from the desk, kicking up his feet onto the glass coffee table. He picked at his teeth for a moment before explaining. “I set them on a wild goose chase. They’ll find trails going here and there so they’ll have to split up. Solana’s Galactic Rangers have only lasted so long because they work well as a team. Recent events,” he droned, thinking back about their predecessor’s potential and inevitable defeat, “have only brought them closer and made them stronger.”

“Yet, they’re weaker when they’re apart,” the other said, thoughtful. “But that still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tamper with the evidence more!”

“There was some interference with the plan,” Ace grimaced and took his feet off the table. “But I have a feeling that problem will solve itself in time.”

“It had better,” the employer pointed a fat finger at him. Then he relaxed some. “How’s our technician’s expert handling all this? I doubt it was easy to whip up this sort of virus and ship it across the stars in a matter of days.”

“She’s fine,” Ace’s mood soured some at the mention of their other partner. “Smartest programmer in the whole system, I would imagine. Where’d you come across her, anyway?”

“Oh! Do I sense admiration? Or is it, perhaps, infatuation?”

Ace shot a warning look at the laughing shadow. “Quite the opposite,” he murmured to himself.

“Cool your jets, kid! I’m just teasing. I know you’re not schmaltzy.”

“Yeah, well,” Ace’s mood remained ill. “Our ideas of humor are vastly different.”

***

Ratchet and Sasha stood apart, at opposite ends of the one-way mirror, Brax seated between them with his foot elevated. They had a long line of suspects that matched Brax’s vague description that he managed to supply from the night before. It was about to be a long day for all three of them. Both Sasha and Ratchet hadn’t gotten any sleep because they spent some of the night filtering through the registered robot files of Aleero City, and the rest of the night bickering. Ratchet supposed that this was how it was to be between them, unable to find any common ground.

As the robots came in the room opposite of the one-way mirror, Brax pointed out the ones that best matched. Then the suspects were urged to walk forward onto a scale, which weighed them and gauged the possibility of performing a blow strong enough to make the bruises on Brax. Unfortunately, many of the small, green-eyed robots didn’t have enough strength to do anything other than move a crate a few inches over.

“Well,” Sasha yawned after the first dozen rows of suspects. “The good news is there won’t be too many robots that match our description. So we don’t have to go through this all over again.” She reached up to smother another large yawn. “And again.”

“I wonder if we even grabbed the guy,” Ratchet had his arms folded and watched severely as another robot, a waiter bot with a dapper tuxedo paint job, stepped onto the scale and as the screen lit up with a big red ‘x’ when the test failed.

These robots were then ushered out as a door to their left opened up. When the right-side door opened up, another group of robots marched in. Among this small troupe was a familiar sight. “Wait!” Ratchet jumped and leaned against the sill. “What’s Clank doing in there? I thought we settled that he wasn’t a suspect.”

“It’s just procedure, relax,” Sasha blinked slowly, expecting the same results as the last group.

Brax looked closely at all the robots lined up against the wall. Clank did not seem to mind being there, but a few others were fidgeting with their mechanical grips. “I’m supposed to be opening up the hotel lobby in five minutes,” one complained. “This had better be quick.”

“Full cooperation will aid the pace of the procedure,” Clank reminded the other.

“Of course, you’d say that,” the bellhop replied. “As a Galactic Ranger, you should be above suspicion. You’ll be out of here in no time.”

Clank was unsure about the comment. Would his friends intentionally turn a blind eye in his favor? It seemed unfair, but he didn’t say any more as the proceedings began.

“Number 305, please step forward onto the scale,” Sasha’s voice rang through the intercom. The little repair-bot came forward and hovered over the scale. “Onto the scale, please.” It chuckled nervously and lowered itself down to the pad. As expected, the screen lit up with the red ‘x’.

The same thing was done with number 307, a nanny-bot; number 309, the bellhop-bot; and finally number 310, Clank, was called up. When Clank stepped forward, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and imagined what it would be like if he actually did have enough strength to fight. Would he use it to fight alongside the Rangers? He much preferred sitting at the computer with Elaris, going over plans and theory for their tactical arsenal. Still, if he could be more usefull….

Stepping onto the scale, everyone anticipated the 310th red light.

“Potential match,” the screen announced.

Everyone was stunned, including Clank. The screen began showing its analysis and factors for and against the match, though much evidence was placed in the affirmative.  
Ratchet’s jaw dropped as he looked at the screen.

“Wow!” Brax sounded impressed, reading the stats. “Must be that raritanium build-up of his. He could slug a hovercar mid-flight and wouldn’t feel a thing.”

“Wasn’t he one of Drek’s warbots?” Sasha pondered aloud.

“A defect,” Ratchet reminded her fiercely, leaning to the side. “I won’t believe that Clank would do something like this.”

“But obviously he could,” Sasha leaned over with a glare.

Brax looked up bewilderedly between the two of them. “Easy! What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“Oh, he’s innocent alright,” Ratchet said, returning to his arm-crossed position, though his brow furrowed. “Bring in the next group.” This time, he’d pay more attention and find the real culprit. Now he felt not only the urge to help out Brax, but also save Clank from going to jail.


	4. Chapter 4

“Your galaxy, your right to know. Now for Channel Beta News with Dallas Wanamaker.” The television screen transitioned from the title to the newscaster straightening his papers on his desk. “Good evening, Solana Galaxy. Tonight we have a shocking story in the works. The recent attack on Galactic Ranger and karaoke champion, Brax Lectrus, prompted a full-out investigation organized by co-Captains Ratchet and Sasha Phyronix. Among the suspects was none other than warbot defect, Clank, beloved co-Technicians Expert of the Rangers. Despite the six other suspects pulled from the unspeakably long roster compiled overnight, things do not look good for our tiny tin man. Could he be returning to his evil directives and put the other Rangers at risk? In related circumstances, CEO of Gadgetron, Wendall Lumos, has just announced a project to document the testing of his new weapons and release the film to the public. Keep in mind that these are the same weapons that malfunctioned and failed to protect our favorite Ranger from this mysterious assailant. Stay tuned as we gather more information throughout the evening.”

Ratchet couldn’t stand it anymore and turned the holovision off. He sat alone on his bunk up in the loft of the hanger. He had managed to unpack a few of the boxes that Grim had shipped to him, but for the most part, there were still crates and boxes everywhere. His lamp sat squarely on top of the holovision set, his shelf was half stocked with tools and memorabilia, and a letter from Grim lay forgotten on the floor under a large box after Ratchet had given up unpacking.

It was quiet, for the most part. Outside there were people walking about at night, talking above the hovercars and sirens. But the sounds only made the little Lombax feel even more alone.

“I should have done something, stood my ground a little more,” he sighed, staring at the one box labeled for Clank. Realizing his melancholy, he shook his head and sprang up to start rummaging through the boxes again. “What am I worrying about? Things’ll turn out alright. Clank’ll go free and the real culprit will get what’s coming to him.”

He pulled out a picture of him, Clank, and Grimroth back at the garage on Veldin. Grim wasn’t smiling, as usual, but Ratchet and Clank were smiling while holding an award for Best Repair Shop on Veldin. The award seemed needless, Grim’s Shop being the only hovercar repair shop on Veldin, so the trophy was left at Grim’s place, somewhere buried under all the tools and hovercar parts. Ratchet was nonetheless proud. The Ranger placed the photo on his tack board and got back to unpacking. Tomorrow would be better.

As he moved from one box to the next, placing things about the loft—a blue Galactic Ranger bottle on the nightstand, rough sketches and blueprints on the tack board, and a small, rusty orange OmniWrench tossed on a top shelf, in sight but probably to be forgotten again—something moved in the hanger below. It bumped into the workbench and knocked the tools to the ground. Ratchet swung around and snatched his OmniWrench from the edge of the bed.

It got quiet again and all he could hear was his own breathing. Creeping forward to the ledge, he shouted, “Who’s there?”

He flipped a switch near the railing that turned on the old lamp by the workbench. A shiny robo-hound blinked in surprise, Ratchet’s protosuit helmet in its mouth this time. “You again!” Ratchet snapped, but then decided not to make any sudden moves. “I mean, hey…you.” He turned around and slowly descended the ladder, hastily welded back onto the wall earlier that day. “Now, stay there. Don’t run off with that helmet. It’s one of a kind, fitted just for my noggin, see?”

The dog cocked its head at him curiously, but didn’t make any moves to run away. Neither did it feel obliged to drop the helmet for the Lombax. The ladder gave a groan and Ratchet clutched the pipes stiffly. The robo-hound came forward, sniffing the structure. “Don’t you dare,” Ratchet whispered. But the dog went ahead and nudged the ladder, causing the delicate welding job to crumble and topple over. Ratchet jumped off to the side before it could land on top of him. The hound yelped at the noises and ran in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” Ratchet grunted, scrabbling to his feet. He ran after the dog, expecting there to be nowhere for it to run to, but it had dove down a hole that Ratchet was sure wasn’t there earlier. “How long have you been working on this?” Growling his frustration, he went to open the garage door, but it stopped a few inches from the ground. “Come on!” Patience thinning by the second, he knelt down and rolled underneath. Running around the corner, he looked for signs of the thief.

It was too dark to see, but he had a good idea of where it might be heading to. Making up his mind, he turned and ran down another path.

***

“Rotor! Come here, boy!” the mysterious alien knelt down and rubbed the dog’s metallic head. The robo-hound tapped his hind foot on the ground repeatedly in delight. “What took you so long? Did you find it this time?”

Rotor dropped the helmet into the other’s open hands. “What? This isn’t….” The figure sighed and sat down in defeat, holding the helmet loosely between his fingers. The robo-hound began to whimper, realizing that his master wasn’t pleased with his choice in gifts. “It’s not your fault, boy. We’ll find it eventually.” The dark mask observed the helmet, turning it over and studied it absent-mindedly. Then more attentively. “That’s odd. Where did you find this?” The dog barked, but that didn’t clarify anything. The owner of Ranger blue and orange striped design couldn’t remain a secret for long, however, and the alien eventually had to recognize it. “Oh, no. Rotor! You didn’t steal this from--”

“Me,” Ratchet landed on the starship behind them. The stranger jumped to his feet. Rotor growled at first by his master’s heels, but then sniffed the air and eased up, tongue wagging and dripping oil. The Ranger felt that he had the upper hand this time and was determined to get his way, standing firmly on their only means of escape. “And I’d like to have it back, if you don’t mind.”

“Off the starship, Ranger,” the other ordered, holding the helmet to the side.

“Oh, no,” Ratchet adjusted his grip on the OmniWrench in his hand. “How do I know you won’t fly off as quickly as you did last time?”

Annoyed, the alien tossed the helmet to the side. The helmet skittered across the gravel and behind the dumpster. “There! Go fetch—not you, Rotor,” he sighed as the dog began prancing after it. 

Ratchet, reluctant to leave without further questioning of the masked stranger, nonetheless slid down from the ship’s hood, facing the two the whole time as he wandered backwards towards the dumpster. “So,” he tried to distract them from leaving, “mind if I ask who you are?”

“Yes,” the other snapped, remaining where he was, though a simple OmniWrench could hardly keep them from leaving.

“Alright,” Ratchet bent down, feeling for his helmet. He’d feel safer if he had it, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to access his weapons locker back at the Hall of Heroes. “Then maybe you can tell me why you’re here and why that robo-hound of yours keeps pestering me?”

“Rotor’s got a mind of his own,” the traveler shifted his weight to his right leg and looked towards the ship. He mask obscured his true desperation to get away. “What he does isn’t any of my doing. Now, if we’re quite finished….” He stepped towards the starship just as Ratchet’s hand touched the top of what he thought was his helmet.

Suddenly, the helmet moved. “Wha--!” Ratchet turned away to see what caused it to shift.

Rotor began to growl and ran forward. The masked figure paused mid-climb into the starship and turned sharply. Little metal tentacles reached out from under the helmet and wrapped around the headpiece. Ratchet cried out in surprise and threw himself backwards just as Rotor plowed into the helmet, barking and scratching. “Get it, Rotor!” the stranger came running over. 

The helmet ran in circles at first, and then clambered up the side of the dumpster, skinny arms pulling it up and over the edge. Rotor slipped in his run and knocked into Ratchet, then jumped onto his lap and soared up into the dumpster after it. Ratchet had the breath knocked right out of him after the encounters with the robo-hound and held his stomach to protect himself from any more. Looking up at the stranger standing next to him, Ratchet wondered if this guy actually knew what was going on.

The alien clenched his fists and waited as the chaos continued inside the dumpster while the Ranger helped himself up from the ground and held his OmniWrench firmly in both hands, ready for almost anything. “What is that thing?” Ratchet asked, bewildered.

Rotor suddenly squealed and jumped out of the dumpster as the tentacles grew, wrapping around the whole object. “We’ll soon find out!” The alien tensed. They all retreated several paces and watched horrified as the dumpster came to life, building a body for itself from the scrap inside. Pipes gathered and entwined with each other as they picked created arms and legs as big around as, say, Qwark. Most notable to the three was the microwave, which sat on top of the mech-monster, Ratchet’s helmet stuffed inside.

“Buzz Blades, equipped,” the helmet announced, transmited through a set of stereo speakers on either side of the creature. Two sets of Buzz Blade launchers were telequipped into its metal pipe-fingers and charged up for an inevitable volley.

“Uh-oh,” Ratchet managed to say before the mech fired an array of little saw blades towards all three of them. They dodged the attacks and retreated around the corner, trapped by the chained fence. The mech stomped its way slowly towards them.

“We can’t lose it this time,” the stranger shouted, telequipping his own weapon into his hand, a sort of Combustor.

“What?!” Ratchet stared up at him. “Take on that thing by yourself?”

“Well, whose fault is it that we’re in this mess?”

“Yours, I believe.”

Ratchet could imagine the man behind the mask rolling his eyes at him before turning back around, readying himself to jump out and draw fire. Their situation couldn’t have been any more stranger, he wondered. A thief helping out a Ranger, a defenseless Ranger at that. Who could imagine! “Do me a favor and watch Rotor for a bit, he has a bit of megalophobia.”

“Megalo-what?” Ratchet asked just as the hulking figure heaved its bulk around the corner. He jumped back and Rotor’s yellow eye began to twitch before sparking uncontrollably. Completely on the fritz, the dog ran around in circles, knocking the Ranger back to the ground. 

“Fear of big things,” the other growled and telequipped a second weapon to his other arm.

The robo-hound settled to cower in Ratchet’s lap, shaking and burying his face in his narrow shoulder. “You’re kidding, right?” Raising a brow as he looked up at the monster as it slowly revealed its whole form from around the corner, he then looked back down at the robo-hound. Ratchet was disappointed in the dog’s meek behavior. Why had he been afraid of this thing, again? “Isn’t there something I can do?” Ratchet called even as the stranger leapt out from the alley and fired at the dumpster, drawing attention away from the other two. The mech turned and stomped heavily after him.

“Nope,” the other grunted, although being pushed back even as he said it.

Pushing Rotor off of him, Ratchet jumped to his feet and roared, “I’m not worthless!” Ratchet stomach churned as he watched the mech-monster gained all the ground, using up all of _his_ weapons. “If I had my helmet, then we might have a chance,” Ratchet said to himself, then slapped his forehead, grimacing at his own absurdity. “But if I _had_ my helmet, then none of this would be happening.” Refusing to give up, he and Rotor crept up to the corner and continued to watch as the masked figure switched from using the Combustor-like weapons to a firearm Ratchet didn’t recognize. “There has to be a way.” He trailed off as he looked around the alley. All there was left unscathed by the mech was—

“—The ship!” Ratchet looked once at the monster and then bolted for the vessel, Rotor hot on his heels. Leaping inside, he landed in the pilot seat. The robo-hound fell on top of him for a minute before pawing itself into the opposite seat. Ratchet spat out the dirt and grime from the dog that got on his face and resumed to stare about the cabin of the starship.

“Whoa!” A smile spread across his face as he saw the bright buttons and screens contrast with the dark brown interior. “Sweet dashboard! Look at the weapons package!” A particular button grabbed his attention. “I wonder what this does….”

Pressing it, two cannons deployed from the undercarriage. The targeting software lit up on the windshield before him. “Now we’re talking,” he grinned wolfishly and grabbed the controls. Lifting the steering yoke, he aimed for the dumpster.

Rotor whined, reaching over and pawing at his hands. “Relax, I won’t hit your guy.” But the dog wasn’t convinced and kept pawing at his hands until Ratchet misfired. A single cannon shot hit the microwave on top of the monster, tossing it across the alley, past the adjacent street, and against a wall. The tentacles holding the mech together were taken along with it and everything left behind collapsed to the sides. The dumpster, landing awkwardly, tilted towards the lone, armed assailant, who couldn’t react in time, but then it veered the other direction and began tilting towards the ship.

Ratchet tried to put the ship in reverse, but the targeting software wouldn’t deactivate. The dumpster bashed against the hood of the vehicle and catapulted both Ratchet and Rotor across the street and land next to the microwave.

The appliance popped open and revealed the damaged helmet, but there was no sign of tentacles or whatever had amassed all that carnage. Ratchet sighed and reached over for the helmet, only for the chin guard to break off. “Elaris is going to kill me.”

“She’s gonna have to wait in line, twerp,” the stranger said, running over. He grabbed the Ranger by the shoulders and heaved him to his feet. Pointing at the starship, he seethed, “That was my starship just a few minutes ago. Now it’s scrap metal because of you!”

“Whoa! Take it easy there,” Ratchet raised his hands in defense. He was quite shorter than this person, but despite that, he didn’t want to pick any more fights this night. “I can fix it!”

The stranger stepped back and released him. He crossed his arms and let his dark mask glare menacingly at the little Ranger.

Ratchet gulped at the deathly silence. “Honest! My shop’s around the corner from here, I can tow it there and make some quick repairs.” And maybe find some answers, he thought eagerly.

The figure turned towards the robo-hound. Rotor didn’t seem to be as frightened as Ratchet had been. The dog just sat and waited for orders, cocking his head to the side when the silence prolonged longer than expected. Finally, the alien sighed, bringing a black gloved hand to his mask and pressing on it. “Rotor,” he grumbled. “Sniff it out.” After the dog had surveyed the sidewalk and street, sensed piqued and entering hunting mode again, he caught some trail of the mysterious fiend they had encountered and scampered off in another direction to fetch it back. The shadowy creature turned towards Ratchet then and gave a long, hard stare from behind his mask. “How long will it take you?”

***

Ratchet worked under the hood of the sleek black starship. The dumpster had done enough damage to the engine that he had to focus on that the most. Pulling out a few broken shards from the hood that got smashed in between joints and gears, he tossed them to the side and into a bucket, then continued cleaning and repairing. “Looks like I’ll need to replace the ion-coupler.” He pulled out two wires, what used to be one, sparking on the ends. “I think I’ve got the right part around here somewhere.” He looked around the hanger and chose a couple boxes to search for what he needed.

The stranger grunted his frustration. “I thought you said you were fast,” he grumbled, tapping his foot as he watched the Ranger filter through one box after another with no luck. Lowering his arms to his sides, but bunching them up to his shoulders, the alien huffed, “Let me help, or I’ll be stuck here forever!” He looked through a few boxes near the workbench, closer to the light.

They searched in silence for a while, but then Ratchet couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. “Why didn’t you report this to the Rangers?”

“Report what?” the other was distracted as he searched.

“Uh, I dunno,” sarcasm leaked into the Lombax’s voice. He stopped searching to lean against the box. “Maybe the monster that just attacked us a half-hour ago?”

“That’s top secret.”

“Yeah, right,” Ratchet narrowed his eyes at the other. “If that thing gets away, it’s gonna cause some serious damage in Aleero City. The Rangers could help apprehend it before anyone gets hurt.”

“You don’t get it,” the figure stood up holding something and tossed the piece they were looking for towards Ratchet, who caught it and frowned down at it. “If news gets out of this…if they realize I had a hand in its apprehension,” the shadow seemed to talk more to himself then to Ratchet now. Realizing this, he crossed his arms again and looked away, “More damage will be done than you can imagine.”

“What do you mean?” Ratchet forgot about the ship for a minute and stared. “Who are _they_?” There was an even deeper mystery than he originally had assumed. “This was a planned attack?” The hero in the Lombax wanted to solve this puzzle, to confront the implied villains.

The masked stranger got a sense of the other’s heroism building up inside of him. “No!” he sounded desperate and then huffed. “Just fix the ship and it’ll all be over soon enough. No need to bother those Rangers of yours.”

Ratchet shot a grim look at the stranger and marched back to the hood of the starship. Taking the part, a small cylinder, he placed it over the damaged wire. It hummed and then lit up as electricity successfully flowed through it. “There,” he looked over the engine one last time before closing the damaged hood with a creak. “I suppose there’s no time to buff out the dings?”

“Hardly,” the figure came forward and reached in to start up the vehicle. Ratchet stepped out of the way just to be safe, but the engine started up as normal.

“So,” Ratchet dusted his gloves to get rid of any residue from his work. “Who should I put down for the bill?” He looked slyly away, hoping to trick a name out of the other.

“Ubi.”

“Ubi?” Ratchet repeated, lifting a brow.

“As in Ubi-daft-if-you-think-you’ll-get-that-information-from-me,” the masked stranger telequipped his unknown weapon and held it out at an arm’s reach.

“Long name,” Ratchet muttered, holding up his hands as the stranger jumped into the starship and turned it around.

“I like you, kid,” the stranger said, weapon still equipped and aimed at the other. “But you ask too many questions. Can’t say I blame you for that, though.” He looked away for a second and then turned back towards the little Ranger. “If you really want to keep this galaxy safe from that monster, Ratchet, then keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

Before the defenseless Lombax could ask for an explanation, a commotion came from outside. “Ratchet! Why won’t you answer your comlink?” Cora walked around the corner of the garage door. Seeing the situation, she jumped into action, telequipping her own Combustor. “I gotcha covered.” But she didn’t. The masked figure withdrew his arm and the top of the starship slammed down, protecting the pilot from any blasts made from the senior Ranger. The stranger drove the vehicle out in a hurry and up into the night traffic above.

“C’mon! I’ve got my ship parked outside, we can catch up in no time.”

“Relax,” Ratchet stepped forward, letting his arms down now that the danger was goen. “No harm done.”

“So being held at gunpoint isn’t worth that guy’s arrest?” Cora replied, incredulously.

“He was just,” Ratchet searched for the right words to say. “Careful. I get the feeling that he’s definitely from out of town.” What the little Ranger didn’t say was that he was trying to avert whatever danger the masked figure had alluded to. If there was a greater threat out there, they needed to be on their guard, but he’d have to look more into the truth behind the threats before telling the others. They wouldn’t listen to the warnings he had just heard and would make a scene in trying to bring any danger to its knees. “So, uh,” he felt awkward about changing the subject so quickly. “What did you come by to say?”

Cora retracted her weapon and flashed and irritated look towards him. “Clank’s gone missing.”

“What!”

“We only just found out a few hours ago,” the Markazien shook her head. “The footage of his cell was tampered with. We were hoping that he had come here and began to suspect that might be the case when you didn’t answer your comlink.”

“Yeah, that’s a funny story,” he produced the broken helmet and smiled sheepishly. “But for another time. We need to find him.” He made to run for his own starship parked on the street, but Cora held him back.

“Ratchet,” Cora warned. “We’ve narrowed the list of suspects down to three.”

“And Clank?”

“He’s still on the list.”

Ratchet took a deep breath. “Then it has to be one of the other two.” Keep your friends close, the shadow had said. He intended to do just that, but find out the truth about what had been going on around Aleero City on his own. He could save them. He hoped.

***

Ace growled as he typed commands into his computer. He had to make the weapon retreat from the battle. “Stupid Lombax,” he punched his keyboard as the screen turned off. He leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin with a sharp claw. “Well, I can’t go back empty handed,” he mused and turned the chair around to observe a board covered with maps of Aleero City and pictures of the Rangers. He pulled off a picture of Qwark. “Hm, but which one next?”

The space was small, smaller than Elaris’ previous lodgings at the Hall of Heroes. There was only enough room for the computer against one wall, the board of pictures against the other, and space for his chair to roll back and forth between them. A single light fixture was hanging from the ceiling, yet it was enough light to get by with. He spent the majority of his time in here, though he wished to be on the other side of the computer screen, cracking skulls. That’s what he was made for, not a full-time desk job.

“If only they were on my turf,” he sighed, leaning back and letting the picture dangle between his fingers. His brow twitched. An idea began working its way into his devious brain. “Huh! Why not?” He whirled his chair around, dropping the photo, and started typing wildly on his computer as his premature plan came into being. Happy with his notes, he leaned back and smiled as he pressed the last key. Hopefully, the last one he’d ever have to touch again.

He pulled up a comlink and two robots elbowed each other to see through the screen.

“Yeah, boss?” a rusty red one grunted as he pushed the other back only to be butted out of the way again by the bright blue, dented robot.

“I need you and your brother to do something for me,” Ace ordered, all seriousness.

“Anything, Ace!” the blue one screeched as he gained control of the screen. “We’re, like, your biggest fans, and stuff.”

Ace tried not to roll his eyes at them. “Good,” he crooned. “Then I need the two of you to get yourselves arrested.”

“Yes, boss—wah-huh!” They both froze in their battle for the screen and stared back at him, cheek to cheek.

“You heard me,” Ace leaned forward and stared hard through the computer at them. “So, go get arrested. Right now!”

Sputtering and stammering to ask more, but too afraid to, the brothers eventually gave up and gave an over the top salute. “Yes, boss!”

***

Ratchet walked quickly through the detention center of the Hall of Heroes, Cora and Qwark right behind him. “They have him in bay five,” Cora reminded the little Ranger as he outpaced them.

“Bay five?” Qwark sounded disgusted. “If you ask me, bay nine is far more comfortable.”

“This is a detention center,” Cora rolled her eyes at him. “Not a day spa.”

“Just an opinion, sheesh!” He made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but his face betrayed his real thoughts. Frustrated, Private Qwark seemed to be battling his lowered status. “What’s a guy gotta do to earn a little respect around here anymore?”

“Well, Qwark,” the senior Ranger returned with a lopsided grin, “I’ve been told actions speak louder than words.”

“Yeah,” he didn’t seem satisfied with that response. He seemed to be thinking about something else. Something that he had tried to do to erase the stain on his reputation. Whatever it was, it was anyone’s guess that it hadn’t worked.

They turned a corner. Qwark and Ratchet stumbled in their steps at the sight of a cell with its door torn open. It held on to its hinges, but it appeared as if it had been peeled into like a piece of fruit. Despite the surprise, Ratchet tore his gaze from it and continued towards bay five.

Coming to the door, he waited for the guard to open up and then he marched in. Once he saw Clank sitting in a chair, he felt a wash of relief. “Clank! You’re okay!”

Elaris looked up from her console. “Keep your distance, Ratchet.”

“Pft! What for? It’s just Clank.”

“He asked for it,” she gestured towards the robot, sitting inside a sort of chamber within the cell. She didn’t seem to like the request any more than Ratchet, but her submission was enough to keep Ratchet in his place.

“It is precautionary,” Clank stated, green eyes swimming with worry. “My memory banks are not fully operational.”

“We just did a neural scan and found three encrypted files, one of which was at the time of Brax’s attack, the other at the time of his disappearance,” Elaris turned towards the screens behind them.

Everyone looked up at the screens, displaying Clank’s recent memories. As mentioned, three files were unable to open.

“What about the third?” Cora asked.

“Not sure,” Elaris typed on the computer one last time, but the file refused to open. “It seems to have been there all along. Some serious coding surrounds it, nothing like the other two. But that’s beyond the point.”

“You’re not saying that Clank actually attacked Brax and then wiped his own memory, are you?” Ratchet asked, skeptically.

“Elaris is not implying anything,” Clank frowned. “She is merely stating what we know so far in the investigation.”

Ratchet turned on his friend. “Really, Clank? Have they accused you long enough that you’re actually beginning to believe them? Guys, we’ve been through too much to turn on each other now.”

Clank’s expression changed from hurt to determined. “I am just as eager to solve this mystery as you are, no matter the consequences. And, if I am to blame, I do not wish any harm to come to you or anyone else.”

Ratchet ignored him and continued. “This isn’t a Dr. Jigger and Mr. Hydro scenario,” he faced everyone else, pleading with them to give up this nonesense. “This is Clank we’re talking about. He wouldn’t do this, you know it.”

“Not intentionally,” Elaris folded her hands in her lap. “We all know Clank’s origins. He’s a _warbot_ defect. He has the potential, and was designed to be that way. But by some sort of miracle, something overpowered his original programming and made him the little genius we know and love.” She smiled up at Clank from her chair. “You’re right to say that he wouldn’t do it. Our Clank wouldn’t.” Pale face becoming more somber, she then added, “But what about Drek’s?”

“This isn’t easy for any of us, kid,” Cora added, though not sure what else she could do to calm the rookie.

Ratchet remained silent, looking at each of his friends as he thought about what they said. They couldn’t do this to each other! It wasn’t just wrong, it didn’t feel natural either. They had always gotten along—well, he didn’t want to count the whole fiasco with Qwark’s betrayal, or even the ceaseless teasing everyone had done to both Elaris and Clank for being nerds. The whole series of events with the Deplanetizer didn’t count, he concluded in his thoughts. But beyond that, they had always gotten along. For the most part.

“I, for once, agree with Ratchet,” Qwark surprised everyone by speaking up. “This talk about heart and humanity and computers is touching, and to some people a bit disconcerting, but we’re all forgetting that Clank’s a shrimp—no offence, little buddy.”

“None taken,” Clank replied. Qwark was being Qwark again and desiring the spotlight. It was best to humor him until he had finished his speech.

“And even if he was strong enough to face off with evil in mortal combat, cunning enough to use his wits in the unknown frontier, and tall enough to look me in the eyes, I still wouldn’t believe he would use that type of machismo against his own family.”

Everyone smiled at the dorky speech, even Ratchet. “Thanks Qwark, we appreciate that.”

“Hey, I may not be Captain anymore,” he grimaced even as he said it, attempting to shrug it off, “but at least I’m still your humble motivational speaker.”

Everyone laughed, forgetting their troubles for a moment. Qwark was right. Nothing would tear this family apart. Not after all they’d been through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are formatted a little differently in this chapter. I simply could _not_ get the little break between paragraphs to look how I wanted, so we'll have to deal with the three asterisks for all breaks until I can figure a way to fix that.  
>  Anyway! Rant over. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Things only get more interesting and hopefully you'll all agree exciting, funny, and dangerous from here on out. Check back next Saturday!


	5. Chapter 5

Elaris screamed when she saw the destroyed helmet Ratchet gave to her in her new office. “How could this happen? I sure hope you weren’t actually in it!”

“No! No,” Ratchet frantically swiped his hands through the air and chuckled to hide his nervousness. He was hoping she wouldn’t ask too many questions, because he didn’t know if he could manage a lie to her face. “A starship I was working on misfired a cannon shot. Nothing out of the ordinary for me,” he tried to make it sound as normal as possible, but Elaris only stared. He cleared his throat. “So, can you fix it?”

“Hardly,” she scoffed, tossing it aside and into a garbage bin. Ratchet watched it disappear in disappointment. “But, you’re in luck,” Elaris beamed, bringing back the Lombax’s attention. “I’ve been working on a new suit design. None of the other Rangers know about it yet, otherwise Qwark would be knocking down my door to put his input in the color schemes. It’s still in its early testing stages, but, I’ll let you take it for a spin in the training room.”

Ratchet could feel the excitement bubble up inside of him and could barely keep still at the thought of an even newer and cooler protosuit. “Sweet!”

***

Walking into the training room, the little Ranger felt much nostalgia. It wasn’t even a year ago that he had walked in here, not knowing what his heroes had planned for him as their new recruit. Stepping onto the platform, it lifted him up to the window height of the observation room.

“Ratchet, this is Wendall Lumos, the CEO of Gadgetron,” Elaris spoke through the mike, motioning to her right to a smart looking elderly businessman and his entourage of camera crews. “He’s here to document the tests.”

“Huge fan of your work, sir,” Ratchet called.

“I’m glad to hear it, son,” Mr. Lumos smiled, pulling at his greying goatee with an air of egotism. “Our work is highly coveted here in the Solana Galaxy and beyond!”

Ratchet was slightly astonished to hear this. Even beyond the reaches of Solana? He hadn’t thought about outside the galaxy since joining the Rangers. All the action seemed to be centered here, close to home.

“Before the Rangers demonstration started, our sponsor at Gadgetron had sent us the newest weapons to test run for them,” Elaris added.

The Gadgetron CEO was troubled by this and added to clarify, “Another strike is in the works. ‘The weapons are too dangerous,’ they say. ‘We’re not paid enough for this job. I need to go to the dentist more than once every three years.’ Meh! Needless to say, we had a shortage in testers this year. But who needs them when you’ve got a team of Solana’s finest to bravely test and model the newest trends to come to market!”

“Sign me up!” Ratchet gave the thumbs up and Ealris activated a switch. A new red and yellow protosuit telequipped in the air around him and automatically fitted itself to the Lombax. He expected to feel the cool armor penetrate through his clothes, but it was surprisingly warm, almost as if he’d been wearing it the whole time.

“This suit is not only stylish, in my opinion, but has camouflaging capabilities,” Elaris announced and pulled up her own schematics on the dashboard as a reference. “You can either be the spotlight of all the action in these gaudy colors or, if you tap the side of your helmet,” Ratchet did so and the design darkened to black with green highlights, “you can go incognito. This mode is undetectable by radar, so you can come closer to enemies without being detected. Either way, the strength of the armor remains the same and all other special features.”

“Alright, Elaris,” Ratchet tested the flexibility of the armor with some jabs in the air and a few stretches. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Well, I’m not about to start any training session without you being equipped with some sort of defense.” Elaris unlocked his weapon’s locker below the platform in the testing facility. “Take your pick.”

A particular blaster caught the Ranger’s eye and he immediately telequipped it.

“This little guy is called the Lancer,” Lumos announced. “Think of it as a Combustor on a diet. Full performance, but thinner and attractive.”

Ratchet fired a few rounds from the blaster towards a target set up on the opposite wall of the viewing room. It acted much the same as the Combustor, as the CEO said. “It’s so light! Where was this thing during my tryouts?”

“Probably blowing up in somebody’s face in a testing lab,” the director replied, though no one was sure if he was joking or not. Realizing his slipup, he turned towards the crew. “You’ll, uh, remember to cut that part out, right?”

Ratchet retracted the Lancer and looked for something else. “That looks sick,” he grinned boyishly, telequipping what appeared to be a shoulder-mount blaster almost as large as he was.

“Are you sure you don’t want to work your way up to that?” Elaris asked anxiously. “The Arbiter isn’t exactly a light weapon.”

“Definitely heavier than that last one,” Ratchet groaned, feeling the weight of his mistake. “Still, I wanna see what it can do.” He widened his stance and aimed towards the opposite wall, where the firing target still projected, slightly charred by the Lancer. Firing, it gave a blast that pushed him back to the edge of the platform. He wobbled and shouted, quickly retracting the weapon before it sent him over the edge. With a swish of his tale, he threw himself forward, landing awkwardly on his face.

Mr. Lumos laughed, though not at the Lombax’s fall, but at the power of his weapons. The hologram had been destroyed and another flickered into its place. “This’ll be great! Wait until Abercrombie gets wind of this. It’ll crush that pinhead.”

The crewmembers looked amongst each other. “Should we cut that too, sir?”

“Are you crazy? People love the drama. Keep it. But not this, what I’m saying now. Except maybe the drama-part. That could be squeezed in there somehow, dontcha think?”

The crew agreed unanimously and turned their attention back to the training room, where Ratchet had righted himself and equipped something smaller this time.

He experimentally turned the pommel over in his grasp and flicked it to life. Electro-whips came out of the top of the handle, sending sparks through the air. A set of dummies, made to look like the Blargs, were then activated and bobbed up and down like a carnival game.

“Nice props, but what’s with the music?” Mr. Lumos turned towards Elaris, who did not look amused by the festive music coming through the speakers.

“Qwark,” she muttered.

“Never mind,” the other planted his hands on his hips. “Let’s roll with it. It adds a little sarcastic flare, makes the gadget look even edgier. Am I right, boys?”

The Hall of Heroes was equipped with advanced props, which would come to life, in a sense, and attack the trainee with a series of downloaded techniques relevant to their species. The music still playing ominously in the background, the dummies flickered to life and the holograms advanced, their platforms hovering beneath them.

Ratchet, not waiting for instructions, flicked the whip towards the dummies, zapping and slashing the props, leaving a few frozen in an electrical shocked state and reducing one to resemble a well-known armless statue. “A bit sloppy for a Ranger to use,” he grimaced at his work. They were just dummies, he thought, but if he used this in real battle—he couldn’t imagine this being available to the public. “It doesn’t feel like a weapon to protect with, but to annihilate with.”

Elaris seemed to consider what he said, the particular word, “annihilate,” resonating with their recent past with Dr. Nefarious. That had been a favorite word of his to use and specifically used it when referencing his desires for the downfall of the Galactic Rangers. However, the CEO frowned at the insult. “Hey, kid. You’re not supposed to critique the weapon, just to look cool using ‘em. It’ll find its home in life. Trust me!”

“Uh, sorry,” Ratchet responded and retracted the weapon back to his weapons locker.

“Let’s keep going, I think you’re getting the hang of this.”

***

Ratchet walked out of the training room tired, but satisfied with the new weapons overall. “No signs of malfunction in the new weapons,” he announced with relief as Elaris and Lumos met him there. He looked at his reflection wearing the new red armor in the shiny chrome door. “Not a scratch!” he said in awe. “Your best work yet, Elaris! Wait until Clank sees this. We’ll be kicking bad guy-butt in style!”

Elaris smiled and looked as if she’d say more, but the director cut her off by slapping Ratchet on the back and giving him a firm handshake. “Son, you were spectacular! I’d buy ten crates of each gadget in there, if I didn’t own them already, that is. You can test my products anytime!”

“Thanks,” Ratchet grinned, still overcome by the handshake. “But you should see us in a real fight. Clank and I have been working on our teamwork tactics and--”

“Yes, about the tin man,” the director said, pushing the cameraman’s device down, a sign that they should stop filming now. “I can’t risk sponsoring a criminal. You’ve got to be real careful with who you’re friends with when you’re on top of the world. The ground is very thin up there, and so is the air. One wrong step and you’ll plummet, never to resurface again.”

“Clank’s involvement in the attack on Brax has not been proven,” Elaris intervened for the raging Lombax.

“Yes, well,” the director pulled at a loose thread on his suit. “The court session is tomorrow. The whole galaxy will learn the truth then.” He plucked the thread and let it fall to the ground. Ratchet watched it drop slowly and felt his rage subsiding with it, replaced with anxiety.

***

Later that day, Ratchet found himself wandering through the detention center and stopping in front of bay five. The guard stood alert at his post and the door remained locked. The little Ranger looked at the closed door and thought about the proceedings tomorrow. How he’d have to analyze the facts for and against the arrest of his friend. Only, in the courtroom, he wasn’t allowed to let their friendship get in the way of justice. Ratchet only stared, unable to bring himself to see his friend one last time before the trial.

“Sir?” the robot sentry asked after an awkwardly long silence. “You’re kinda freaking me out. Should I open up?”

“Hm? Oh,” Ratchet shook his head. “Just tell him, when you can, that I said hi and best of luck tomorrow.” But the guard didn’t have to. Clank heard everything from his chair inside the cell. He blinked sadly, hearing his friend’s steps slowly fade away and the room return to silence.

“Best of luck, Ratchet.”

***

“Is that a dint?” a robot newswoman gasped as she looked in her compact, rubbing a spot on her bright, metallic hair. “Chaz, set up an appointment with my designer. I need a new hairpiece.” Muttering came from the other side of the camera. “We’re—oh!” Flustered, she turned to face the camera as it began broadcasting. “Juanita Alvaro coming to you live from the courtroom of the century where, finally, it will be revealed to the galaxy today exactly who is to blame for the recent attack against the Galactic Rangers.” The camera spanned the room below. “For those of you who could not make it to the trial today, you’re probably better off where you are, with breathing space and access to a clean bathroom. As you can see, the courtroom is packed in like sardines as everyone waits impatiently for the trial to get underway.

“It’s like a game of ‘Where’s Weldon’ down below as each of the Rangers have come and are scattered throughout the seats in the room. The Captains, Ratchet and Sasha Phyronix are easily spotted, up in the Captain’s box. Neither is Brax, near the front, just as eager by his expression to find the identity of his assailant. Cora is stationed with the guards at doors to the room, looking stricter than usual. And Elaris is seated behind the defendant, Clank. Both appear calm despite the dangling sentence of Clank’s incarceration if proven guilty. Could this be the calm before the storm?”

She paused, bringing her hand up to her earpiece. “This just in, we have just been informed that former Captain Qwark, now Private Qwark of the Galactic Rangers has been assigned a spot in the jury! Is that allowed? Things may just look up for the little tin man. But does this mean that their friendship might get in the way of dispensing justice and leave a threat on our city’s streets?”

Clank looked over at the two other robots awaiting the trial. One was a personal trainer from a gym downtown, known for his fiery temper and short-circuiting. The other, an usher from the cinema, had a record for downloading illegal kung fu matrixes. Clank was clean, compared to the two of them, if one overlooked his scrambled memory files. But something didn’t feel fair. He thought about what the bellhop had said back in the lineup. Would he be overlooked and above suspicion? Clank was determined to follow through with procedure and face the court.

Elaris seemed to read his thoughts and smiled down at him. “You’ll get a fair trial, Clank. Don’t sweat it. Then we can put all this behind us.”

“But how can the verdict be determined accurately without my memory banks fully operational?”

His friend was about to respond, but the judge had come into the courtroom. “All rise for the honorable Judge Hamilton Beauregard,” an officer announced. Everyone stood. All three robots dropped from their chairs, but couldn’t see over the edge of the table, their antennae and transceivers the only things visible above the tabletop. A round judge had sauntered into the courtroom from a back door and took his seat. Everyone did the same and the suspects clambered back into theirs.

As the hearing resumed, the three defendants found themselves pitted against a thin, but exceedingly loud prosecutor. He turned towards the judge, jury, and the courtroom packed full of people. “Because of the strange circumstances we find ourselves in, and the prying eyes of the media, this trial is to give a brief overview of what we know and bring up any scraps of information we may have discovered over the course of compiling the suspects for today’s hearing. The jury is already informed with the known information, but we have a means of possibly uncovering the very criminal in the act.”

The judge cocked a wiry eyebrow and nodded consent, “Proceed.”

“First defendant,” the prosecutor shouted, making the trainer-bot jump. “You have been known by many of your trainees to short-circuit in the middle of training sessions, dealing violent blows upon both body and self-esteem. You were also in the vicinity of the crime with the alibi of buying a new blender for the gym, correct?”

“It’s true! I bought a blender!” the robot blurted hysterically. “If it’s a crime to put spinach in your smoothie, I’m guilty!”

“Never mind that,” the judge waved, though disgusted by the thought of a green smoothie. “Continue.”

“However, despite this alibi,” the prosecutor wound up, making everyone in the room slide to the front of their seats. He paused for a moment. “Your manager at Sweat Planet has informed us that he had secretly placed a GPS device somewhere on your person to keep an eye on your proceedings, fearing lawsuit, which may of yet come up in another court trial.” Clearing his throat, he continued, “And the evidence points that you were two blocks away at the time of the crime.”

Everyone let out the breath they all had been holding, leaning back into their chairs. Disappointed, they waited for the evidence against the other two suspects. The trainer-bot laughed softly and slumped in his seat as well. Then, remembering what was said, started looking over himself for the GPS tracker.

“Moving on to the second defendant,” the usher too jumped at the booming voice of the prosecutor, but then composed himself in as polite a manner as he could muster. The prosecutor bent down over the table and smiled. “Hello, Ted. What’s this, your fifth time here?”

“I have the right to remain silent,” Ted answered straight-faced.

“Not here you don’t,” the prosecutor stood back up and turned to the rest of the room. “The second defendant is well known to this room for being a bot of the cinema and a kung fu addict. His passions have gone so far as to purchasing pirated kung fu databases for his hard drive. Clearly, he has the potential, the knowledge of how to face off with a Ranger. But you all must be asking yourselves, ‘Why would he?’ Is there some connection between this robot and the injured Ranger?” The room remained silent. “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, there is a connection!”

Everyone gasped and leaned forward in their chairs again.

Pleased to have gotten their attention once again, the prosecutor smiled a toothy grin and straightened his suit. “Brax Lectrus is known to be a regular at the Metropolis Cinema and knows the second defendant personally. However, he had refused every request to train said defendant in the Galactic Ranger fighting style. As it so turns out, Mr. Lectrus was just returning from a flick at the cinema that very evening the crime took place. This would be an opportune time for the defendant to show him who the real fighter is.”

Brax looked over at the little usher-bot with surprise. “Who? Ted? You’ve gotta be kidding me. He’s all talk. I’ve never seen him one-up anybody, or even practice what he preaches, for that matter.”

“Well, Mr. Lectrus, then you’d be surprised to know that he was indeed following you that night.”

“Yeah,” Ted said smugly. “To return his wallet.”

This stole the prosecutor’s thunder and he frowned at the courtroom regular. “Exactly, but you never caught up with him by the time of the incident. Care to tell the courtroom why?”

“Traffic, what else?”

Everyone nodded in understanding. Aleero City traffic was horrendous, infamously known across the galaxy.

The judge bent down and stared hard at the prosecutor, who was nervously fixing his tie and glasses. “Is this true?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the other responded reverently. “We received confirmation that the defendant was indeed stuck at a crosswalk at one of the lower intersections. There was a lot of footage to go through on that particular busy street and we didn’t get it until late last evening.”

The whole room sighed as everyone eased back into their chairs. Another one off the hook. But there was only one suspect left. Either he was the real culprit, or the real villain was still on the loose.

Clank suddenly felt nervous. If he was the last one, did that mean they had found something against him? Would he receive the sentence? Why else would they bring this court session into order?

“With You Honor’s permission, I’d like to exercise a new technique in order to unscramble the third defendant’s memory files and finally prove where he was the night of the crime.”

“Why wasn’t this the first thing we did?” The judge murmured. “Go on.”

Cora opened the front door and a few Ranger officers rolled in a large holovision screen and a jumble of wires. She looked past them and the machinery, nervous about what the outcome of this would bring about. “Hang in there, kid,” she said under her breath.

The prosecutor set up a chair and motioned Clank to come forward. Clank slid out of his chair, cast one look at Elaris, and clopped slowly over. This gave the prosecutor time to explain how the machine worked. “This machine is on loan from Gadgetron, brought to our attention by its CEO, Wendall Lumos. What it will do is sift through the defendant’s recent memory to the two files that, as of late, technicians have been unsuccessful to extract their content from. Knowing the reliability of Mr. Lumos’ gadgetry, we believe that this may finally do the trick.”

Sasha noticed Ratchet getting tense, leaning far forward on the chair, barely sitting on it. His foot tapped repetitively and his hands gripped at his kneepads. He was glancing nervously around the room, wondering if this is what made the CEO so sure of Clank’s guilt. But he didn’t see Lumos anywhere. Probably at home, smiling smugly. He was surprised by his own malicious thoughts and focused back on the trial.

Sasha understood his nervousness, though she didn’t know his true reasons. Things didn’t look good, but having an outburst from the Lombax wasn’t going to make things any better. Reaching forward, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe,” she reminded him. “Getting restless isn’t going to help the situation.”

Ratchet was surprised at first by the friendly advice. Then he slid back into his chair and took a deep breath as suggested, though his hands remained on his knees and his eyes locked on the machinery below. “I want to know what happened, where he was,” he ground out after exhaling. “But at the same time, I’d rather this be a dud and never know.”

Clank sat still as receivers were suction-cupped to his head and chestplate. “These transmitters will wirelessly tap into his memories,” the prosecutor explained, crossing his arms because of how long it was taking. Once finished with setting up, the screen was then turned on. The picture was fuzzy for a moment, but one of the officers gave it a punch to the side and it cleared up, showing three virtual folders, zipped and unwilling to open.

“Now, the extraction program kicks in.”

It did just that and pried away at the first folder with advanced codes, breaking through Clank’s firewalls. It opened and the screen went dark as the memory unfolded. The windows were dimmed in the room in order to better see the screen.

There was silence for a moment, but then music swelled from the stereo and an old black-and-white holo-film of ‘Lance and Janice: Passion in Their Stars’ began playing.

“Lance? Is it truly you?” A faint feminine voice spoke.

“Yes, Janice. I have returned!” The clear ring of Lance’s heroic voice sang through the courtroom, making women sigh and men grimace at its overemphasis. “Nothing can keep us apart. My overpowering ardor for your sylph-like four-arm embrace fueled me with the celestial inspiration I needed to stand up against your brother, Rob, and his foolhardy ideas for our future. I’m giving it all up. Now, nobody can stand in the way of our feelings.”

“Oh, Lance!” Janice became dramatically desperate, her voice raising. “What does this mean for us? How will we ever go on without the income from your day job?”

Lance laughed a bit too heartily. “Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, Janice. Remember, by day I am a superhero, but by night I am a novelist!”

“How could I have ever doubted you?”

“Janice….”

“Lance….”

Snickering broke out in the courtroom. The prosecutor grew frustrated and glared between Clank and the laughing spectators. “A decoy! He completely wiped his memory at that time!”

The judge chuckled at his outburst. “Or he went home to watch some holo-vision.”

“With your consent, You Honor,” the prosecutor seethed, embarrassed that this would happen during his case, “I’d like to go ahead and open the second file.”

“I don’t see why not. Perhaps I could get some popcorn to go with it?”

The courtroom laughed, but Clank was perplexed. This did not seem right, though they were his memories. The machine hummed again and Clank felt a slight tingling in his brain as the codes pecked away at his memories. This time, instead of soap opera orchestra churning from the speakers, there was a blaster shot. “Oh, dear!” Clank murmured, remembering something.

Ratchet stood up so fast that he nearly knocked his chair over. On the screen, before the whole court was somewhere he had been. Recently, he thought. It was the alley with the masked man, though from a higher elevation. He stared back at himself as the position of the viewer stretched upwards. “The mech!” he blurted. Ratchet was sure of it now. There he was, the robo-hound, and the stranger next to him, their panicked scramble for shelter, and the stranger’s brave attempts to stop it. It played out on repeat from his own memory, checking and checking again, astonished by the similarities.

There was one thing that Ratchet didn’t remember during that encounter and that was that the dumpster-mech had turned when he and Rotor made a mad dash for the starship. While he was fawning over the dashboard, the mech had taken two steps towards them. Then there was the cannon fire and the video cut out.

Ratchet felt Sasha grab him by the wrist and pull him out of sight of the courtroom before the people turned to stare at the Captain’s box. “You were holding out!” the Cazares hissed, a hand over his mouth. “Do you have any idea what this makes you look like?”

The other Captain was still trying to process what he saw. How could Clank have known what had happened there? He reached up and pried her hand away, finding it difficult to breathe. “I had no idea that he was there!”

“Well, he sure knew that you were there.”

“What are you saying?”

“What are _you_ saying? Wasn’t he the one firing at you?” It wasn’t really a question. She was fully convinced that this was how things had played out.

“No! It was…” he hesitated, and then confessed, “I don’t know what it was.”

Sasha took a step back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “And of course it was all just captured on live newsfeed, in front of the _whole_ galaxy,” she grumbled.

“What did you expect me to do, bring up an episode with a dumpster-mech the night Clank disappeared?”

Sasha peered over her hand and fixed him with a you-tell-me look.

Ratchet blinked and then kicked at the ground sheepishly. “I guess that sounds more important when you say it out loud.”

A knock came at the box door. Sasha stopped him before he could go answer it and stepped forward. Hand on the button, she whispered. “Don’t say anything until I figure this out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ratchet mocked, his face twisted in a peeved expression.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but then turned and opened the door. It wasn’t the media, as she had feared, but an officer. “Yes?”

The officer squirmed. “The Captain—erm, co-Captain Ratchet has been called to the front, ma’am.”

“And as co-Captain, he will, but I will be his active attorney and speak for him,” she responded dryly.

“What?” Ratchet complained, but shut up when Sasha cast the same look as earlier over her shoulder at him.

The two descended, led by the officer, and entered the courtroom. There were several whispers as the Lombax passed by. He suddenly felt the pressure. If they couldn’t be convinced that he hadn’t known that Clank was there, then he might be held accountable for withholding evidence.

Sasha motioned Ratchet to stand by the defendants’ table and stepped towards the judge seat alone. The prosecutor met her there. The three discussed things quietly for a while and Ratchet let his view adjust to the lower level. He looked around at the high ceiling and averted looking at the jury and the crowd behind him. But Clank’s gaze caught his eye. Both were questioning what they had just saw in their memories just then. Did they really attack each other? Clank had feared that this would happen back in bay five, when everyone had come to check on his safe return from somewhere, but he didn’t know that it already had.

The group up front turned around and the judge cleared his throat. “The court pardons the Captain of the Galactic Rangers for not bringing this evidence before the proper authorities under the notion that he did not recognize the defendant during the spur of the moment.” Ratchet felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The judge then passed the gavel between his hands and continued, “The jury will now give their verdict.”

Everyone turned as a commotion came from the jury box.

“Why does it have to be me?” Qwark hissed. One of the other people on jury duty elbowed him to keep standing and read the paper handed to him. “Oh, boy,” the Ranger groaned, pupils shrinking as he observed all the faces that turned expectantly towards him. He looked at the paper in his hands and choked, “The jury finds the third defendant…how’s about recess, huh? I’m starved.”

Nobody replied. “Not even for thirty minutes? There’s this great café down the street and…” The stares from the whole courtroom were on the green suited figure, silently putting pressure on him to give the verdict. Private Qwark gulped and pulled at the base of his cowl. “Oh, alright. The jury finds the third defendant…guilty?”

There was such a commotion that neither Ratchet nor Clank could react. The judge quickly declared Clank a threat to public safety, announcing the sentence of thirty years in the Iron Hold II, effective immediately. The guards took all three defendants out of the room. The media and civilians swarmed about them in a whirlwind of questions and comments. The jury recessed and the large room was left completely abandoned, except for six still figures.

The Galactic Rangers had no idea how to respond, not even Qwark, who tapped the paper in his other hand nervously. He let out a low, halfhearted chuckle as his friends fixed him with angry and disbelieving stares. “How’s about going to that café, eh?”

“Not hungry,” Ratchet muttered, tail and ears drooping. With a slow swish of his tail, he turned and walked out of the room. Everyone watched sadly as he retreated, but no one followed or joined him. Sasha continued to have mixed feelings about the proceedings, ducking her head as she considered if what happened was right. It didn’t feel right, but she wasn’t about to go against the law just for the sake of feelings.

She suddenly realized that the Rangers were looking at her now. Was she supposed to do something now? Their uncertain gazes made her thinks so and she straightened her posture. “Let’s get back to the Hall of Heroes,” she announced as sophisticated as she could. “With or without them, we’ve got a galaxy to guard. Nothing’s going to get done if we stand around here all day.”

Brax shifted his crutch under his arm and stood from his seat at the prosecutor’s table, furrowing his brow as he looked down at the young Captain. “You don’t think this’ll keep Ratchet from coming back, do ya?”

“The kid’s come so far,” Cora reminded him, resolving herself. “He’ll adjust.” She looked at Sasha for an agreement. But her fierce tenacity only unnerved the Cazares more.

Sasha didn’t know what Ratchet would do because of this. She hardly knew any of her subordinates, having been stuck behind her desk for so long. But she couldn’t show her uncertainty to them. Just say something, she thought desperately. “That’s up for him to decide. Give him some time, then he’ll tell us when he’s ready. Until then, move out.”

Everyone’s looks of remorse turned to confusion at the strange choice in expression. Oops. Was she trying too hard, perhaps? “Just move it, people!” she barked and turned quickly out of the room before she embarrassed herself further. It was time to grow up and take charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all should recognize Lance & Janice from the games. I was actually surprised when I realized that they didn't make a cameo appearance in the movie.  
> On the other side of the spectrum, something I don't expect many of you to get is that the Honorable Judge Hamilton Beauregard is a spoof of Hamilton Burger from the late '50s and early '60s TV show, _Perry Mason_. Fun fact of the day.  
>  Hope you enjoyed it! I'm still writing and editing, but progress is progress.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy HAPPY Birthday to Crash Bandicoot & Spyro the Dragon!!!

Clank kept good record of all that happened after the scene in the courtroom. Guarded from the steaming press, he boarded a waiting starship outside the building and was flown to Blackwater City, planet Rilgar. As usual, the weather was dark and rainy when they arrived. The city lights were barely visible through the downpour. Then he was driven to the Iron Hold II and registered immediately as inmate number 13-45-2100 by the clerk in the lobby. After a few quick photos at the desk for the prison’s own records, a device was promptly slapped onto his back, startling the little robot. He could feel the weight of the new object between his shoulders, but soon forgot about it as they started moving again.

As quickly as he had been moved out of the courthouse, he was just as quickly escorted through the back door into the facility. Walking at a steady pace through multiple corridors, he tried to acquaint himself with his new cold surroundings. Everything was either cold steel or dark, foreboding metal. Every corridor looked like the next, each robotic inmate with a sneer like the last. Finally, Clank and the guards came to a stop and the newest inmate was ushered into a cell block with two other inmates.

He blinked rapidly once it was all over, making sure to keep these sudden events well documented in his data banks, in case of any unforeseen malfunction in the future. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself for not keeping them better secured before. If not for the error itself, but because it had actually put Ratchet in danger of his malfunction.

“Hey,” one of the robots interrupted his processing unit. “Whacha in for, Mac?”

“Wait a sec,” the other sat up in his bunk and scrutinized the newcomer’s face. “You’re that Ranger…uh…?”

“Clank,” the _former_ Ranger regarded the other two with proper grace, as was his nature. But then he thought about his name, given to him by his friends. If he was a danger to their safety, then he should probably cut off any ties to them. “Or perhaps I should revert to Warbot Defect B-5429671—”

“Aw, cheer up, pal,” the first robot said, catching the other’s dismay, and hoping to stop the introduction before the robot’s serial number went to the ten-millions place. “It’s not so bad in here.” He came forward and grasped Clank’s hand with a tight, metallic grip. “Name’s Smelt. Sleeping Beauty over there is my brother, Flux.”

“Pleasure,” Clank shook his hand and observed the two cellmates. Both were of the same model of combat bot and small compared with most robots, yet still taller than Clank. Smelt, mirrored his twin in everything but color, he being a rusty red and Flux was a dark blue.

There was a moment’s pause. “Well?” Flux’s voice rose though he remained relaxed on the bunk, his eyes closed.

Clank gave a quizzical look. “Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to return the question?” Flux sat up again. “I don’t think he gets how we do things down here, bro.”

“Well, how could he, Flux? He only just got here!”

Flux took this as an opportunity and left the bunk. “Allow me to educate you, friend, about the manners that the underbelly of society have come to hold high. First,” he hovered forward—both combat bots lacking legs—and clasped his hands behind his back, “When someone asks you ‘Whatcha in for?’ you give them an answer and return the question.”

“I see, then, what are you in for?” Clank wanted to get along with these two as much as he could. If he was going to be here for the next thirty years, then he would have to learn how to avoid conflict and keep the peace, even here.

“Street fight!” Flux said with a fist bump.

“Hijacking!” Smelt flexed nonexistent muscles.

Clank looked between them. “I do not understand.”

“That’s lesson number two: lie,” Flux resumed his mentor attitude towards the new inmate. “You’ve got to build up a reputation here! Even if it’s a fake one. But it works just the same.”

“Oh! No, I could not do that,” Clank shook his head. “It would not be right.”

“Wouldn’t be right!” Flux appeared shocked at the phrase.

Smelt held his head in his hand and sighed. “He’s got a long way to go before he can embrace his inner-villain.”

Clank shivered. “But I do not wish to be a villain! I am merely here to keep any further harm from befalling the Galactic Rangers.”

“Yeah, how did you do that, exactly?” Flux asked slyly. His brother cast him an annoyed glace.

Clank tapped his chin as he thought about it. “I am not sure.” He remembered the incident in the alley, but he could not remember how he had gotten there. Something still didn’t add up right.

“Well, not that it matters anymore,” Smelt tapped a device on his shoulder, similar to the one on his brother’s shoulder and Clank’s back.

Flux nodded knowingly and continued, “These disrupt any…how’d they put it again, Smelt?”

“‘Disrupt any download and/or usage of weaponry,’ pinhead,” his brother quoted with a jab to his brother’s shoulder.

“Yeah, everything except for your mouth,” Flux chuckled, knocking him back.

The brothers tussled for a bit before a buzz came from outside the cell and the doors. Throughout the whole corridor, doors opened up and inmates eagerly left their gloomy residence. Flux and Smelt speedily hovered out of their jail cell. “Lesson three,” Flux called behind him as Clank timidly followed. “Lunch hour.”

“It’s survival of the fittest,” Smelt added. “If you let anyone push you over, well, let’s just say--”

“You’re dead!” Flux added emphatically.

“Yeah,” Smelt agreed coolly with a sinister grin.

They entered a large cafeteria, with tables, charging booths, and a buffet down one end. But no one was moving yet. Everyone crowded by the entrance, against the wall and behind a painted white line across the floor.

The warden, a tall, skinny robot that did not look fit for his position, paced in front of them on the other side of the line. He messed with his dark striped magnetic tie over his light brown coat of paint. “This is the last time that I’m going to tell you buckets of filched bolts how things work here, so turn your mics up and your speakers off.” He paused so they could execute his commands, though there was no sign that anyone did. “For the sake of newcomers, I’m going to show you all the ropes around this place.” He stopped in his steps and pointed behind him without looking. “The tables and buffet are for our semi-organic residents. You may push and shove as much as you please, but there is only so much food we can offer each day. So, no food fights! The charging booths are for our battery bots. They only give you half a charge before ejecting you to give someone else some juice. As always, the cafeteria closes in exactly ten minutes starting in three…”

The inmates took their mark as if it was a big race. Clank only stared at them all, crouched and some inching forward as close as they could to the line without being caught cheating.

“Two…one!”

The crowds heaved forward with much shouting and shoving as they headed to the buffet on the far side and the charging stations on each wall. They surged past the warden, who walked through them without being knocked over. He paused next to Clank, who was still staring dumbfounded at the scene. “I’d start running, tin man,” he sneered and then continued out the door.

“Oh,” Clank whined and ran forward to join the bustling crowd. He dodged punches and kicks from the taller inmates around him and weaved his way to the charging booths. He spotted Flux and Smelt arguing over who would get the first charge. Then Smelt slipped into the charging station before Flux could, making faces at him from the inside as the machine gave him half a charge. After about a minute, it forcibly ejected Smelt. Flux rushed in as soon as his brother was out and got his batteries charged as well. Smelt then came over to the line where Clank was at, but didn’t notice the little robot.

The combat bot passed a small parcel between his hands and hid it away in the palm of the other. “Hey! Scrap heap!” This address was made by the combat bot towards a large robot that was second in line.

“Beat it, runt,” the other growled without looking down.

“That’s what I plan to do! But your stinkin’ butt is all the way up in the clouds!”

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me?” the large bot leered down at him.

“You could say that,” Smelt smiled, lifting his fists in preparation for a round.

“You might want to watch that puny mouth of yours or you might get exactly what you’re looking for.” While this banter was going back and forth, Flux had been ejected from the other charging booth and was heading towards the one in this line. Clank saw this and so did the large robot.

“Aha! So, you thought you could pull a fast one on me, did ya?” He stooped down and grabbed Flux, his hand engulfing the whole robot, except for his head. “Well, maybe you should have been smarter than to mess with Booz McCain!”

Smelt looked around and snuck away through the crowd before McCain could grab him as well. Clank bravely stepped forward in his place. “Excuse me,” he called up towards the steaming robot.

McCain looked around and down at the little robot. “The Ranger!” he said, surprised. He blinked and then gave a highly skeptical look at the little robot, probably wondering how this little backpack had come to be a Ranger in the first place. He was hardly worth worrying over.

“If I may suggest,” Clank continued, noticing Flux’s growing distress, “that you could, uh, discard this bot into the crowd and advance to the charging station without any further intervention, giving yourself and others time to charge.”

McCain looked at Flux with disgust. His corroded lower jaw twitched into a sinister smirk. “Huh, he’s right. You’re not worth it.” Taking Clank’s advice literally, he tossed the combat bot across the room, like a blue comet, and he crashed into the crowd on the opposite side of the room. The collision made another large inmate stumble forward and into the bot ahead of him in the line. Taking that as a challenge to fight, the assaulted bot turned around and punched the person behind him. The defendant then threw a punch back at him, but instead the target slipped to the side and the other crashed into a stout fem-droid. He stepped back sheepishly as she wheeled around to look at him. Enraged, she gave a sound punch with her large metallic arm that connected with the base of his jaw and sent him flying backwards onto a table.

Chaos broke out as robots mistakenly hit others in the crowds until it was an all-out riot. As the movement swam across the room, it came back around to where Clank, Smelt, and McCain were. McCain eagerly came out of the charging station to join the row, Smelt tucking his parcel into the other’s back compartment before turning the other way to fight as well. Clank backed up from the action and stumbled into the charging station. The clear door slid closed and Clank could feel his battery charging with electricity sparking unseen through the chamber. Not too long after, it flung him from the station and into the mass of robots and cyborgs.

He stumbled to a halt and tried to avoid the conflict the best he could. Someone’s knee came close to hitting his head. Another’s foot came up from behind him and threw him forward. He skidded to a halt on his face, feet flying up behind him. He placed his hands before him and cautiously lifted himself from the floor.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice cackled. “Aren’t we far from home?”

Clank looked up and found that the voice came from a cyborg, calmly sitting at a table in the center of the room, miraculously untouched by the action surrounding it. He leaned forward and played with the food on his plate, eyeing the little Ranger ruefully.

“Shiv Helix?” Clank registered the face. “I was not aware that you held residence here.”

“You make it sound as if I had a choice,” the villain laughed. He motioned the other to join him at the table. Clank clopped up to the bench and jumped up onto it. “Listen, squirt,” Shiv continued, picking at his blockish teeth. “Your days of liberty are gone. The Iron Hold has a way of breaking her ‘residents’ down into mindless robots, no offense, but pun intended.” He nodded behind them, towards McCain as he grappled with Smelt, who had joined his brother in exacting their vengeance. “Don’t think I didn’t see how all this started.”

“I did not intend to cause a fight, only to prevent one,” Clank explained.

“Going against the status quo will always cause something. Take my advice, go with the flow. If someone wants to box someone else’s chops, let ‘em. If they want to box your chops, beat ‘em to it. You’ve gotta look out for number one: yourself.”

Clank was disheartened by this information for a moment before speaking up, “I do not think it is within my nature to stand idly by while someone gets hurt.”

The con laughed. “Look around yourself,” he gestured with wide arms to the swarming riot about them. “Kid, you’re worthless here. There ain’t anything you can do to quell the storm. Probably every one of these bozos don’t even want to listen to your ‘teamwork and friendship’ spiel anyway. Nuh-uh,” he shook his head and shoved some of his mushy meal into his mouth with his robotic arm. “Anything you say ain’t worth two bolts in this place. That is, unless you have an escape plan.” He said this last part passively and stared up at the ceiling dreamily. Then, recalling himself, looked back at the little robot with all seriousness. “Keep that in mind.”

“Which point am I to remember?”

“Both, if you can. But if you do have an escape plan, keep it to yourself. Sometimes I swear the walls have ears. Now, scram! I can’t be seen socializing with the likes of a Ranger. Gotta hold on to what reputation I have left.”

“Why have you been kind towards me, if that is the case?” Clank asked, curiously observing the villain.

Shiv avoided eye contact. “Let’s just say, once upon a time, I thought I could be worth something, like you, getting recognition for good things that I did.” He stabbed his spoon into his gruel and frowned at the opposite side of the room, slowly losing himself in his unpleasant memories. “Then I realized that it was easier to look out for myself.”

Clank nodded and then hopped down from the bench. A bell had rung and the inmates were all regretfully inclined to break up the fight and head back to their cells. Clank walked alone, Smelt and Flux nowhere to be seen. He thought about all that had happened and wondered how things could go so far downhill so fast. His first prison fight, an enemy, and a series of lessons to consider.

But there was one thing that he was certain of and it helped him keep his head held high as he wandered down the guarded halls to his cell block. “Hm. No, I do not think that I am worthless here,” he said aloud to himself. “But it appears that I may be on my own.”

He turned to walk into his cell, the twins already there and sleeping off their exhaustion from the fight. He moved to his own bunk on the opposite wall. But when he failed to get on top of the suspended piece of furniture the first time, he grew frustrated. Struggling to get on top of it, he remembered how Ratchet had helped him onto the bar stool at Mulligan’s Café. It had felt somewhat embarrassing at the time, but now he missed the extra hand from a friend.

***

Ratchet twisted his OmniWrench in the socket under the hood of a hovercar. It jammed. Gritting his teeth, he placed the palms of his hands on the handle and pushed down. Unconventional, he’d admit later, but he was too frustrated to do anything normal. He was desperate for work, truth be told. If people weren’t stopping by his garage for repairs, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Qwark volunteered to advertise on social media, even to show his face on the street in hopes to draw them into the area to see the heroes. The Lombax was only slightly curious about the has-been hero’s true motives for doing so, but his appreciation for his friend and the work overshadowed those questions.

“How’s it commin’ down there?” the frustrated owner of the vehicle called from the driver’s seat. “I’ve got places to go _today_!”

“Just. A. Second,” Ratchet grunted. The hex nut finally gave and tightened all the way. “There,” he pulled out the tool and wiped his forehead. “That should keep the engine from flooding. Try it out.”

The driver did and it started without a sputter. “Whaddya know? It worked!” He smiled at the mechanic and Ratchet pretended that there wasn’t even a doubt. With an exchange of payment credentials, the customer drove away and Ratchet walked out the garage door.

“Who’s next?”

Qwark looked down both sides of the alley. “I think everyone’s gone home by now,” he surmised. “But the night’s still young, Lombax. Someone might show up.”

Ratchet had already started walking back inside, wiping his OmniWrench with an oily rag. “No, I don’t think anyone else will come. You should probably head home too. Thanks for all the help, Qwark. Really, you didn’t have to.” His melancholy returned as soon as he placed his gadget on his work bench.

Not noticing, the green hero pulled back his shoulders and grinned. “Aw,” he waved his hand as if to ward off the praise, but Ratchet could tell that Private Qwark could barely control his pride. Then some of it slipped out as he continued, “You know, charity and all that jazz.”

“Right,” Ratchet said, mildly amused. He sorted out his tools on the worktable and expected the green hero to go home, but he hadn’t yet.

Qwark rung his wrists and bit his lip. He needed to say more, but it was against his usual nature to get personal. He enjoyed putting up a front, wearing a mask. It reminded him of his good ol’ days on the stage in school. But to deal with raw humanity, unscripted? A bit risky, in his opinion. Finally, he got over himself and bit out, “And I feel…responsible for what happened to Clank.”

Ratchet turned around, raising his brow in surprise. “Qwark, you don’t have to--”

“It was peer pressure, I tell you! Justice may be blind, but it’s like a force.” The demoted Captain’s reversal of the blame irked Ratchet, but he continued more reservedly, “And he was our friend too, the other Rangers and me, I mean.”

“Really, you can stop now,” Ratchet looked away. He tried to return to his task, but couldn’t focus. Giving up, he sighed and leaned his hands on the table. “I just don’t know what to do or say anymore, alright? Clank would usually spout off some time-tested wisdom at this point and settle things like that,” he snapped his fingers to make his point. “But me?” He crossed his arms. “Without him, the team just doesn’t feel whole anymore. And were we even friends? I mean, I thought I knew him, but this whole incident has made me realize how little I really know about the guy.”

Qwark decided that this was getting too personal and frantically thought of some way to back out of what he had started. “Last time I open a can of worms,” he muttered, turning to leave for good.

A bang came from outside the garage. Dropping everything, the two ran out and stared up at the sky. A dark starship and smoking hovercar were falling from the traffic above and fast.

“We’ve gotta do something!” Ratchet shouted.

“Like what? They’re all the way up there!”

Suddenly, the hovercar began to transform mid-flight. Its course changed and curved towards them. “Not for much longer,” the little Ranger stated. “Look out!” Both ran across the street as the molding mass of metal crashed into the garage. “Worst neighborhood ever!” Ratchet yelled as he and Qwark ducked their heads from the flying dust and debris.

Everything was quiet for a moment and then the two Rangers squinted and coughed through the dust. The garage was still intact, but neither could see inside of it.

Qwark felt something grip his wrist. He smirked down at Ratchet, “Aw, is the wittle Wombax scared?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s alright. There’s no need to be bashful. You can hold my hand. Stronger men break down in tenser situations than this.” As he was gesturing, his hands came above the dust cloud and revealed something that had wrapped around his wrist.

“Qwark,” Ratchet’s voice cracked and he pointing. “That’s not me.” He stared wide-eyed as something swarmed under the dust on the ground beneath them. Metal arms snatched them up lighting fast and pulled them up into the air above the smoldering hovercar-mech as it stepped out from the shadows. Both heroes yelped, caught unawares.

What appeared to be a mouth opened up, revealing an incinerator-like trap. Qwark yelled again. “Hot. Hot. Hot! I have very fair skin. I’m going to be sunburnt for weeks.”

“I don’t think it intends for us to live that long,” Ratchet struggled against the metal, but couldn’t budge.

Canon fire came from the starship as it made a pass overhead. The blast hit the mech, knocking it over and releasing its prisoners. The Rangers tumbled to the ground and bolted to their feet. Qwark telequipped his Negotiator, a shoulder-mount missile launcher. “Try chewing on this, hombre!” As the monster turned and kneeled before them, gapping it’s flaming mouth with a roaring fire inside of it, Private Qwark released the pair of missiles into it.

The mech closed its mouth, a strange creaking noise threatening to bust its sides. Another explosion followed, belching flames and hovercar scrap metal into the air. The metal flew everywhere, forcing the Rangers to dodge this way and that. But the head of the mech had gone up into the air, metal tentacles limp during the freefall.

The starship came back around and activated a tractorbeam, locking on to the mech-head. The weight made the ship sink a little.

Ratchet gasped as he saw them getting away. Grabbing a small device from his belt, he looked for a way to get around the wall of fire in the middle of the street. Seeing none, he turned towards his friend. “Qwark! Throw me up!”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s physically possible--”

“Are you kidding me! No time for jokes,” Ratchet snapped. Qwark shrugged. “Toss me then!” The other kept his mouth shut and lifted the Lombax. One hand on the tall Ranger’s shoulder for balance and the other gripping the little disk, Ratchet sprang forward as Qwark hurled him over the burning pile, flames flickering up at him. Tumbling to the other side, he ran after the retreating starship. It had started to rise, trying to escape to the traffic above. Launching his swingshot, Ratchet grappled the top of a small building. Running up the wall, he jumped onto the roof and continued his pursuit.

The starship was weighed down by the now struggling mech-head and unable to rise fast enough. The driver inside was franticly trying to pilot the ship and adjust for the added weight. This gave the Lombax enough time to catch up and glimpse at the masked figure behind the wheel. Tossing the devise, it flew through the air and magnetized to the bumper of the starship just as it gained altitude. “Yes!” he smiled.

Looking forward as he ran, he saw the edge of the roof was closer than he had expected. Breathless, he stumbled to a halt, teetering over the edge of the building. “Gyaah!” he yelped as he tipped forward.

“I’ve gotcha!” Qwark called below him, running into the next alley.

Ratchet had no choice as gravity caused his feet to slip and sent him plummeting. But he wasn’t caught by his friend. He was out of reach and fell into the open dumpster, his blow cushioned by tightly wrapped garbage bags. Slightly buried, he accepted Qwark’s help to fish him out.

Settled on his feet again, Ratchet pulled out another devise from his belt. Taking off a piece of newspaper that had stuck to it from the dumpster, he tapped its screen some to regain the signal. The image straightened out, showing the path of a little red dot across a map of Kerwan, then zoomed out to show the whole Solana Galaxy.

“What’s that for?” Qwark asked. “Oh! Don’t tell me. You planted a tracer on that thing. Just like in the spy movies.”

“Yup,” Ratchet pocketed the devise and stared up at the sunset, the starship already heading for the upper atmosphere. “And that thing wasn’t Clank.”

“Huh?”

“ _That_ was the mech that attacked me in the alley that night. The video that everyone saw in the courtroom. It was a fake!” His mind began to whir, excitement bubbling up inside of him. “And Clank’s innocent!”

“Framed, you mean,” Qwark pursed his lips as he thought about this new piece of drama. “But now we’ve got proof! Aha! Take that, justice!” He punched up in the air emphatically.

“No,” Ratchet shook his head. “We don’t have proof.”

“Sure we do. Some security cameras must have caught my awesomeness back there. Did you see how that monster went ka-blamo after my quick thinking and clever zinger?” He wiped away an imaginary tear. “It felt like the good ol’ days.”

Giving an exasperated sigh, Ratchet looked up into the hero’s face. “Have you even noticed how empty this street is compared to the streets around the Hall of Heroes?” Qwark thought about it and shrugged his shoulders. “That’s because it’s in the slums,” Ratchet explained, pointing at the broken cameras on each building. “Very--” He looked down the street at his wrecked garage and drooped a little, “Very expensive slums.”

“So, no footage?”

“And no witnesses.” Glancing up at the sky again, he took a defiant stance and glared at nothing in particular. “Except for the driver in that starship.” They marched back to the garage. Qwark telequipped his Frost Cannon and shot icy cold rounds onto the fires and extinguished them.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Whip out that little doohickey of yours and it’s open season on villains!”

“I don’t think it will be that simple,” Ratchet sighed, kicking around debris from the hovercar’s crash. The floor had sunken in and his tools and boxes had been scattered across the back wall, even into the loft. “But it’s never simple, is it? Even if we arrest the guy, how are we going to get him to confess? What if he tosses the evidence out in deep space before we can get to him?” Then there was the whole idea that there were more of them out there. A team of villains he’d send into hiding if he arrested this one. Ratchet banged his fist against the table, knocking a few things to the floor. “Gah! I wish Clank was here! He’d know what to do.”

“Then let’s go ask him,” Qwark blurted.

“He’s in the Iron Hold, remember?” Ratchet sifted through the debris and retrieved his OmniWrench and Elaris’ new helmet, thankfully intact. It had been hidden up in the loft, in case he had any more unexpected visitors as he had twice already. “They don’t allow any callers, especially organic ones into the prison.”

Qwark haughtily looked away, busy with looking at his three-fingered gloved hands. “I didn’t say that we’d make an appointment.”

***

“I don’t know how you convinced me to do this,” Ratchet groaned to Qwark as they flew in the Private’s starship to Rilgar. He was suited up in the new armor and the starship had one of Elaris’ cloaking devices disguising it as a police starship, one without Qwark’s logo plastered on the side in sharp greens and yellows.

“I know, right?” Qwark sounded just as surprised in himself. “I should seriously consider this motivational speaking career. And what’s with the new get-out? Has Elaris been making new armors without my proficient input?”

“Let’s just focus on what we have on hand, okay?”

“Fine. Sheesh, you’re worse than Cora. Tense much?”

They flew through the atmosphere and into Blackwater City. The conditions were better than usual; instead of a thorough downpour, it was a light sprinkle, almost a mist. “Perfect,” the driver mused. Ratchet looked out the window as they circled their destination from above. The Iron Hold II looked just as gloomy and restricted as the original had on Novalis. It matched its new location well. “Here we go,” Ratchet tapped the Hologuise on his wrist and cloaked himself as an orange Lombax-like robot as they descended.

“Good! Now,” Qwark rubbed his hands together. “How are we doing this again?”

Ratchet balked a bit in his seat and glared with his new glassy green eyes. “This is _your_ plan!”

“Right, right. I just want to hear you say it. Makes it sound professional when it’s quoted.”

“Yeah, well, the press conference can wait.” Seeing that Qwark wouldn’t be satisfied until he ‘quoted’ the plan, the Lombax gave a short grunt, made to sound like static by the Hologuise. Parking the vehicle in front of the building Ratchet gave in and spoke quickly, “First, you get me ‘arrested’ and we’ll sneak in.”

“Good, good.”

“Then we’ll tap into their main security system and disengage the cameras.”

“Alright, awesome. And then?”

“Would you stop interrupting me?” Ratchet gave a slight jab to Qwark’s shoulder. “I’m stressed as it is already. We need to stay focused. Can you do that for me?” Qwark obliged and made a motion of zipping his lips. “Okay,” the other cast a wary glance at him and went back to explaining the plan. “From there we can find the data room and plan our route inside. Plus, we’ll need a map to the security bots’ patrols and gauge our timing in and out between them. After making it past the guards, we’ll grab Clank from his cell block and get out of there as quickly as we can without gathering any attention.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Qwark beamed.

“Let’s hope it works like one too,” Ratchet muttered. Private Qwark’s plans had always been brash in the past, but brute force had managed to work on several of their enemies beforehand. This mission required delicate planning, something that either Elaris or Clank professed in, not the other Rangers. But both Ratchet and Qwark knew that Elaris wouldn’t hear of releasing Clank and they had no more time to convince Captain Phyronix that the real culprit was getting away. “Now activate your disguise! We can’t sit out here all day.”

Qwark did so and took the disguise of a generic Galactic Ranger bot. “It’s hero time!”

The Ranger exited the ship first and telequiped his Combuster, keeping robo-Ratchet in his sights. “Move you,” he said, voice modulator kicking in. The other leapt from the ship as well. He brought his hands in front of him and the Hologuise created the illusion of blue electrical handcuffs. They proceeded inside.

At the front desk, a bored looking clerk sat rolling a pencil back and forth on the tabletop. Glancing up, he noticed the two walk in. “Ranger!” he gasped and straightened up. “What’s this? I wasn’t informed of another inmate today.”

“Erm, caught him earlier this morning, hijacking an armored bank vehicle,” Qwark stated.

Surprised, the clerk leaned forward, bald metallic head shining in the daylight cast from the window. He scrutinized robo-Ratchet, thinking him too small and powerless to do such an act. “Really?”

“Really, you should have seen when his claws came out, flying here and there like nobody’s business. It was hard to keep tabs on him.”

“Well, why didn’t you call for backup?”

Qwark fumbled a bit in his speech. “Uh, well he, uh--”

“I knew I couldn’t get away from a _Ranger_ in a sluggish hovercar,” Ratchet grunted in what he imagined was a tough-guy’s voice. “So I took his sweet starship out there for a joyride.”

“Exactly, so I couldn’t call. ‘Cause the radio’s, you know, in the starship. But I pulled a few highly top secret Galactic Ranger tactics and caught the runt--”

“Runt!” Ratchet could feel his fur bristle underneath the Hologuise. “Too far, man,” he growled under his breath.

“--before he could make a run for it,” Qwark wrapped the story up sloppily. “No matter,” the Ranger either hadn’t heard the Lombax’s complaint or pretended not to. “He’s here now and I’m ready to check ‘im in for a stay at the Iron Hold to think about what he’s done.”

The clerk nodded and pulled out the papers. “He’ll think twice before trying to steal the city’s money and then a Ranger’s own starship,” he scoffed. “Bots these days. They don’t know when to quit!”

“You said it,” Qwark added.

“Alright then. We’ll just have to fill out his papers.” The robot held a pen in his hand, looking up expectantly at the two. “Name? Serial number? Manufacturer?” 

Ratchet and Qwark stood stock-still. “Oops,” Qwark muttered. “Uh, sorry ‘bout this, pal.” He switched his Combuster for his Frost Cannon. Firing, he froze the clerk completely, including his chair. The unsuspecting robot was frozen in a reeling posture, mouth gawking and eyes flicking back and forth between the robo-Lombax and Galactic Ranger.

“Qwark!” Ratchet yelped. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t expect him to ask so many questions!”

“You could have made something up,” Ratchet slapped his own forehead. Then, reaching behind the desk, he let his fingers hover over the rows of buttons before he pressed one that opened up the door.

“Improv’s not my strongpoint!”

Ratchet groaned and motioned for them to go through the door. “No time to make this pretty. We need to get in and out, fast.” He glanced at the papers on the desk and thought for a moment. “While we’re here, let’s skip a few steps.” He pulled up a computer screen and frantically typed on its virtual keyboard, searching for Clank’s file and a schedule for the patrols. He also paused the feed on the camera in the corner of the lobby and rewound it to show the clerk repeatedly knocking his pen across the desk.

“Nice work, Ratchet,” Qwark noted, almost impressed.

Ratchet nodded satisfactorily and the two spun around to proceed through the door.

*

Clank followed Smelt and Flux into the yard in the center of the building. Glass panes above kept rain from coming in and flying robots from escaping, but not from daylight streaming into the strangely serene park, filled with grass, trees, benches, and walkways. “This is,” Clank searched for the right words, but could only think of one, “unexpected.”

“Don’t be fooled,” Smelt replied. “They’re just holograms.”

“Odd that they would choose to place such quaint holograms in the middle of a prison,” the little bot reasoned.

“That’s why Smelt and I think they’re hiding something in here,” Flux whispered. “We’ve mapped out each rock and shrub in this place, but nothing’s turned up yet.”

His brother smacked him in the back of his head. “Don’t go spilling everything we know to the _Ranger_ ,” he emphasized Clank’s previous title.

“Nah, I’ve got a good feeling about this ‘un,” Flux retorted. “If he’s as crazy as the media shows him to be, then I think we can trust him.” He grinned down at Clank. “Crazy is how we survive here. You know, actions speak louder than words.”

“So it would seem,” Clank muttered as he went to explore the fake park. As he walked around the holo-trees, a large foot stepped in front of him, preventing him from following the path farther.

“Yo, Ranger!” McCain rumbled in his deep-throated voice. “You were helping those combat bots yesterday in the caf.”

Surprised by this accusation, Clank stepped back as the large robot loomed over him. “Oh, dear! I mean, I did not intend to--”

“You were sent here because you pummeled another Ranger, that Brax character.” McCain laughed. “I heard he used to be an underground streetfighter before joining the goody-two-shoes club. But, honestly, I never took him to be as strong as everyone makes him out to be. Especially if he was taken out by a tin can, such as yourself.”

Clank balled his hands into blockish fists. “I will have you know that Brax Lectrus’ reputation does not do him enough justice in his strength of both body and mind. He is a highly skilled Ranger and, if my memory banks serve correctly, imprisoned you here, Billy ‘Booz’ McCain.”

The larger robot roared his frustration and scooped up the little Ranger into his tight fist. “No one calls me Billy, not even my mother! And no one talks to me like that and walks away without missing a few cogs and springs to remember me by.”

“Clank!” Smelt and Flux ran up after hearing the commotion. Seeing the predicament, their faces fell in disappointment. “Aw,” Smelt snapped his fingers. “There goes another asset to our escape plan.”

“We were so close this time,” Flux sighed. “Well, it was nice knowing you, buddy!” The two laughed and hurriedly floated away as McCain tried to stomp on them underfoot.

“Nice friends of yours,” the large bot grinned sinisterly.

“They are not my friends,” Clank struggled defiantly against the hand. “And I have been informed that such relations do not exist here.”

“You heard right. There are no friends here, only short-term business partnerships.” He cackled as he tightened his grip. “You’re all on your own. No friends, Rangers, or even someone in debt to you. Too bad, ‘cause it seems that the news exaggerated a little on your ability to stand your own ground.”

Clank wondered why none of the security bots were coming to stop the fight; he considered it a fight and he would stand his ground, despite what McCain said. “I do not require…anyone to…fight. My. Battles.”

Something changed in the little robot’s mainframe. Untapped energy suddenly exploded from inside of him and his whole body began to vibrate. “Wha--?” McCain had to grip him with both hands as the one shook violently from the quake coming from the little robot. But his grip was pulled apart and Clank dropped from his grasp. The tall bot stepped back and gasped, “How did you…? You’re…you’re--!”

Clank only looked at his larger frame for a moment before bracing to fight Booz McCain. Something just felt familiar, even normal about his new height. Though not as tall as his opponent, he had grown nearly three times his regular size. He had bulked up some too. “If we must fight, then let us not hesitate.”

“Humph! I don’t know what just happened,” Booz took a stance and mockingly thumbed where his nose would be if he had one. “But I don’t mind the thought of taking on a Ranger. Any last words before I kick your can?”

Clank did not have to think twice about his response, “Actions speak louder than words.”

The two took three steps towards each other before an alarm sounded and the two were forcibly separated by the robotic guards. Finding that both struggled against their restraints, the devices on their backs were activated by the push of a button, shocking them into shutting down their systems temporarily.

One of the guards spoke into his earpiece, “We’re gonna need two gurneys and a crane. Lock down all other prisoners.”

The inmates ruefully obeyed their orders and went to their cells, but not without casting curious glances at the paralyzed robots first. Smelt elbowed Flux and they gawked as they watched three guards lift Clank up onto a gurney.

“Is that even the same guy?” Flux scoffed.

“I think it is,” Smelt responded thoughtfully. “And I think we may still have some use for him.”

“Keep it movin’,” a guard came over and ushered them back into the main building. But the guard didn’t notice the sinister smiles on the two brothers as they unusually obeyed the order without a fuss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The problems just keep coming at our heroes and now a major turning point has been breached. Breaking into prison to bust Clank, a declared hazard to public safety, out of there? Hardly sounds like something a hero would do. And what's with this new power the little robot has discovered inside himself? Will it prove to be a problem or a blessing?
> 
> Find out next Saturday! (I sound like a television announcer *rolls eyes*)
> 
> Alright, now to the technicality of things:  
> "It's Hero Time!" Is it me or does that show up in more places than just in Ben 10? I can't be certain, so I'm just gonna say that the first place I heard it was Ben 10. And, I guess it could be a reference to it, Qwark hits the Hologuise on his wrist and everything. So, yeah. Ben 10. Fun show when I was younger.  
> And the question you all must be asking is, "Who are Smelt and Flux?" And the gnawing at the back of your head is telling you that they remind you of someone. Two people, to be exact. Well, you're right! They're based off of Merc & Green from Deadlocked/Gladiator! Again, I've never played that game, but with Ace involved, I needed to make some connections with the past. And, hey! I hope these two turn out to be funny and make _you_ a Laughing Lombax too!  
>  Booz McCain, yeah, you might want to keep an eye on him. He wasn't supposed to be a big character at this point, but later on, I'll tell ya who he turns out to be. Just a fair warning that another reimagined character resurfaces. But for arguments sake, he wasn't supposed to be _him_ at this point. So, now you have that to think about.  
>  And, I dunno, could I go on? The fem droid, though not explicitly said to be any particular fem droid, who could be absolutely any fem droid, could reference Helga. That's what came to my mind, but I don't focus on her in this story.  
> Hey, look! Insomniac's Shiv Helix makes an appearance too! Huh, I just post the thing and I already forgot that he was in this chapter. Go figure.


	7. Chapter 7

Ratchet and Qwark stealthily moved through the building, already suspecting something was up when they didn’t see any guards or inmates. But once the prisoners were brought back inside, the heroes scrambled to hide.

“You there, Ranger,” one of the guards called to Qwark. “Help us put the prisoners away.”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” Qwark complained haughtily. “You see, I’ve gotta drop off this li’l rascal and make it back to Kerwan. It’s spaghetti night and the other Rangers are bringing in garlic bread.”

“Huh, sounds good!” the other said, craving some food himself. “I guess I can’t keep you from that then. We’ve haven’t had anything but stale bread for three stinking days.”

“There’s a pal,” the Ranger smiled. He thrust Ratchet into the nearest cell and the other guard put two combat bots in the same block and locked the cell door. Qwark waved as the guard went on his way. Once the other was out of sight, he looked into the cell at the seething Lombax.

“Think you can plan your way out of this one?” Ratchet snapped, tapping the locked door.

“It was on impulse!”

“I thought we had moved past reckless planning,” the Lombax muttered to himself. “Let me do the planning from now on, okay Qwark?”

“But--”

“You got us this far, but now maybe it’s gone just a bit too far.” He heaved a sigh and tapped the bars. “Now, uh, help me find a way out of here.”

One of the combat bots cleared his throat. Ratchet and the Ranger flinched and turned to look towards their silent observers. The two parties stared at each other for a moment before Qwark spoke up, “We’re looking for a little green-eyed robot, about yea high, formerly a Galactic Ranger. You know of him?”

“Qwark,” his compatriot warned.

“Yeah,” Smelt replied. “We know of him.”

“Used to be our roomie, in fact,” Flux added.

“Great!” the hero rejoined, “Uh, where is he, exactly?”

“Wait,” Smelt scolded his brother before he could say anything. “What my brother meant to say was, what’s in it for us?”

“Well, uh,” Ratchet hadn’t expected this response and wasn’t prepared to barter the information out of them.

“I can’t see why opening this cell door isn’t enough of a bargaining chip,” Qwark scoffed. “Tell us the information we want to know and we’ll let you pass through this gateway of freedom.”

“Just a sec,” Ratchet told the two now interested robots and turned to hiss at Private Qwark. “We can’t let these two escape. They’re _real_ cons!”

“Hey, the way I see it is that we’re already breaking a handful of galactic laws to get in here and another handful to get out. It wouldn’t hurt to break a few more.”

“Yes it would!” Ratchet hissed. Unbelievable, he thought and knocked his head on the bars. “We don’t even know what these two are in for.”

“Hey,” Qwark called over to the others. “Whatcha in for, Mac?”

“Hijacking!” Flux responded.

“Street fight!” Smelt said at the same time.

Qwark nodded and turned back to Ratchet, who looked at them confusedly. “They’re pickpockets.”

“How’d you know?” Ratchet blinked in surprise.

“I picked up a few manners and tidbits from the underbelly of society while I did my own time in the slammer,” the green hero replied, smugly. As if this was something to be proud of, Ratchet thought.

“Oh! I like this guy,” Flux whispered to his brother. “Quick learner. Nothing like that other guy.”

“Alright,” Smelt continued with the negotiations. “We’ll tell you where your friend’s at, on condition that you turn a blind eye to our, um, self-employed probation.”

Ratchet ground his teeth and replied, “Deal.” Every fiber of the hero was screaming to not let them go, but he had no choice. They needed to be quick about this and couldn’t have the two combat bots taking up their time.

Smelt, who appeared to be the brains of the two, looked between the two strangers skeptically before speaking. “Your little pal went and got himself locked up farther in the Hold. Broke a few rules, if you can imagine.”

“Clank?” Ratchet choked and then frowned. “I don’t believe it.”

“Oh, yeah!” Flux added in, jittery from the anticipation of breaking out finally. “We don’t know how he did it, but he just,” here he gave a sound like a rocket shooting up into the sky.

“He…?”

“You’ll see,” Smelt winked, leaving them in suspense. “The main point is that he picked a fight he couldn’t win and was sent to spend a few hours in solitary confinement.”

“Now, we’ve done our part,” his brother interrupted again, gaining himself another frustrated growl and jab from his twin. “What about your side of the bargain?”

“No problemo,” Qwark beamed as he pulled a Fusion Grenade from his belt. Wedging it between the bars, he activated it. Everyone took several steps back.

No sooner did the bars blow apart from the bomb than the alarms begin to blare.

“No time to make it pretty, right?” Qwark offered.

Ratchet ran out of the door, followed closely by the twins. “C’mon,” he waved for the other. They headed towards the yard and stumbled to a stop at the sight of the trees.

“Holograms,” the Lombax noted, his foot seemingly pushing through a rock. He stepped forward, expecting to go straight through everything, but then he stumbled over a real rock, landing flat on his face. Jumping back up, ignoring the snickering twins, he looked around the park. “So which ones are real?”

Flux reached behind the tall Ranger silently and grabbed one of the Fusion Grenades. Tucking it safely behind his own back, he nudged his brother and passed it to him. He went back to grab another, but Ratchet noticed the movement as he turned around to say something. “Look out!”

The tall Ranger looked down at the two combat bots as they sped away. Smelt tossed his weapon up at the ceiling and watched it explode and break a hole in the roof. Rain instantly poured through and into the makeshift park. The holograms flickered, showing the real path to the other side.

“Thanks a million! If you’re ever in the Shadow Sector, we’ll find a way to repay you,” Smelt eagerly hovered to the hole.

“Really?” Flux whispered.

“Of course not, pinhead!”

“Hey! What about finding Clank?” Ratchet shouted up at them, already second-guessing his deal with them.

“Are you kidding me?” Smelt scoffed, then flew up and out the hole. “We’ve gotten all we need!”

“Yeah, who do you think we are? You’re personal battlebots?” Flux waved and then followed his brother in their escape. “Every bot for himself!” Tossing his own bomb, smoke covered their trail, causing the other two to cough and wave the smoke from their faces.

The Lombax heaved a sigh and Qwark gave him a pat on the back. “C’mon, admit it,” the demoted hero smiled. “This isn’t your first felony. You’ve got your own record too!”

“Those were misunderstandings,” Ratchet clarified. “But you seem to be taking this too well, Qwark.” The other was about to defend himself before the little Ranger interrupted him. “Never mind, let’s just grab Clank and hightail it outta here.”

“There!” the guards could be heard from behind them, racing through the hallway. Ratchet telequipped his Frost Cannon and blew at the door, creating an ice wall between them.

“No going back that way.”

“Look who’s wasting time now,” Qwark scoffed and headed through the flickering part towards the only other doorway. “This way, Lombax!”

They sprinted down the halls, freezing any guards they came across with their respective blasters and dodging counterattacks. They passed a one-way mirror that revealed a large robot lounging in a silent, stark white room. The robot looked upset and thinking hard about something, wringing his corroded hands around something invisible before him.

Down one more block was a familiar little robot sitting on his own bench in a white room. “There!” Ratchet shouted, firing behind them at a persistent guard.

Qwark froze a portion of the mirror and then jumped through it.

Clank jumped in surprise. Blinking in confusion at the sight of a Galactic Ranger bot. It wasn’t until he saw the robo-Lombax back into the room, eyeing outside before rushing forward, that he recognized them. “Ratchet? Is that you? Who is that with you?”

“Who else but Captain Ex-Con himself?” Ratchet sounded slightly relieved to see his friend again. If it weren’t for the awkward circumstances, he’d probably feel even better at seeing the little guy.

“I resent that!” Qwark snapped. “You know, I don’t understand how you could have passed as a Ranger if you get this aggravated over a simple rescue mission.”

“What does he mean?” Clank demanded, frowning. “Ratchet, I intend to serve my sentence.”

“But it’s not yours to serve,” the other pleaded. “Hear me out.”

“My memories convince me otherwise.”

“No! They’re fake, they have to be.”

“Ratchet,” Clank softened his tone, understanding his friend’s distress. “I know it is not easy to accept this, but the law is the law. Two wrongs do not make a right.”

“But you didn’t do it, Clank. We know who did.”

“You know?”

“Well, we didn’t schedule a one-on-one interview, if that’s what you mean,” the robo-Lombax chuckled, more like his old self. “But we’re pretty sure we know the culprit. Qwark’s got the sunburns to prove it, if that can even pass as evidence.”

“If that is the case, then you should have contacted the authorities and they will try to make amends.”

“One problem,” Ratchet paused, pulling out his tracking device. The red dot had been completely lost, but zooming out on the map showed it moving slowly off to the right, on the outskirts of the galaxy. “They got away from us. I don’t think they’re even in the galaxy anymore. If we don’t hurry, we’ll lose the signal entirely.”

“Hm,” Clank peered at the device. “They appear to be heading towards Bogon.”

“The Rangers don’t have jurisdiction there,” Qwark added from his post by the hole, though interested in the conversation behind him. “Believe me, we tried talking to them about it, but it’s such a quiet neighborhood that they don’t even need heroes. Can you believe it?”

“Please, Clank,” Ratchet’s expression returned to its nervousness. He was about to lose his friend again if he couldn’t convince him to leave with them. “We need you to help us catch them!”

Clank paused as he calculated what Ratchet said. “Why did you not contact Elaris instead?”

Ratchet gave a halfhearted smile and nervously looked around them. “Because this wasn’t my plan.”

“Whoa! Don’t blame this on me,” Qwark protested.

“And if it had been your plan?” Clank pressed the question, looking up at the Lombax sternly.

Ratchet scratched behind his head. “I…” he stopped his fidgeting and looked back at his friend. “I’d still value your input. Maybe I wouldn’t go so far as to break you out of prison, but,” he dropped his disguise and truly smiled, “it’s good to see you again, pal.”

It was hard for Clank to be mad at Ratchet any longer, so he gave up and smiled weakly back. It was good to see his friends again.

“We jumped the gun. I know, I know. We should have thought it out some more,” Ratchet frowned, easing back on his heels. “And as long as we’re still confessing things, I’ve got something else to share.”

“Do we even have time for that?” Qwark grunted.

“The guy we’re after is part of a group. I don’t know anymore than that, there wasn’t much to go on other than those words. But if the Rangers all suited up and went to arrest the one, it might send the rest of them into hiding.”

Clank nodded, but didn’t say anything. Ratchet bit his lip and raised his brow nervously, waiting for a response. Clank thought for a long while.

“By all means, take your time,” Qwark laughed as he fired a few rounds from his blaster out of hole. “It’s not like we’re going to be arrested any minute now and lose _every_ chance of clearing your name or anything.”

The little robot nodded and jumped down from his seat. “Then I suppose my only mode of action would be to accompany you on this top secret mission.”

“Great!” Ratchet beamed and stood back up. “Now, how do we get out of this place?”

Clank placed his hands on his hips and glared up at him. “You do not even have an escape plan?” Ratchet shrugged and chuckled nervously.

“There’s that hole in the ceiling,” Qwark suggested.

“Escaping by rooftop will not be easy, now that the guards know you are here,” the little robot interposed.

Ratchet rubbed his chin as he thought. “Wait,” he perked up. “Didn’t you see how the holograms reacted to the water? And there must be something in there to drain the water out in case the roof leaked.”

“A drainage pipe?” Clank mused, realizing that must have been what Smelt and Flux were looking for.

“And Rilgar rains gallons of water every hour,” Qwark agreed. “So it had better be a big pipe!”

“Let’s hope so,” Ratchet nodded. He reached down and took Clank’s offered hand, swinging him onto his harness.

The three then ran out and slid around the frozen guards and floor. Moving into the yard, they saw the holograms flicker at the rain and a river of water draining into the park. Clank jumped off of the harness and followed the stream until they came to a bench. “Here!” he called, pushing up against it. Ratchet took the other end and pulled.

“It’s nailed to the floor!” the Lombax shouted in dismay.

“Allow me,” Qwark spat and rubbed his hands together, but failed to pull the bench out of the ground.

“Hm,” Clank stepped back. Maybe if he could….

He focused, trying to tap into that energy he had stumbled across before. Channeling his newly found powers, he felt his exterior expand and grow to shape into his larger form. “Allow me.” He startled the other two and they stumbled backwards at the surprise. “I shall explain later,” though I need to understand it myself, he wondered. Without any more to say, he pulled up at the bench and pried it from the ground, tossing it aside and towards the ice wall, which was slowly melting away from blaster shots fired by the guards on the other side.

The grate was revealed to the large drainage pipe and Clank too picked that up with ease.

“Ack!” Qwark plugged where his nose would be under the Hologuise. “A _sewer_ pipe!”

“No time for that,” Ratchet nervously glanced at the ice wall as it began to crack.

Qwark gagged in disgust. “Women and children first and whatnot.”

“Fine! But you better be right behind me,” Ratchet leapt into the pipe without another thought and Qwark regretfully followed. Clank then jumped in and slid the grate over the hole again, the hologram disguising it as flickering grass.

Clank’s hands were still between the notches of the grate when he felt his whole figure rumble again. His power drained dramatically and he shrunk back down to normal size. He dangled precariously above the sewer water. Dropping, Ratchet and Qwark caught him and they all sighed in relief. Almost done, they hoped.

***

The Starship Phoenix flew through Rilgar’s atmosphere, holding Captain Sasha Phyronix, Cora, and Elaris, and any remaining Ranger bots on duty. It was a small army, but a feared army nonetheless. “Approaching destination,” the controls announced through the speakers. “Current mission status: active. Recent update from Iron Hold II transmission: Ice everywhere. Bring hairdryers.”

“Kinda feels like a girl’s night,” Elaris smiled from her seat at the controls.

“A girl’s night where we get to kick butt,” Cora added, telequipping her Combuster eagerly. Then, flicking a warning gaze towards her old friend, she teased, “And don’t think about braiding my hair.”

Elaris lifted her hands in submission and laughed. She didn’t come on these missions often, but being down one Ranger and the only one who would be ready in time for takeoff, she joined the team for another adventure.

Sasha sat silently in the Captain’s chair. She was excited too, though she hardly showed it. This was her first time in the field as active Captain. The only question that kept her from joining the other two in their excited banter was where is Ratchet? “He should have been here,” she muttered.

“Who?” Cora called, not catching what was said over her conversation with Elaris.

Sasha hadn’t intended anyone to hear and she distractedly lifted her eyes to look down at the two from the Captain’s seat. “Hm? Oh, uh, I’m just thinking about how unusual it is that Ratchet and Private Qwark aren’t jumping on this mission, too.”

“That is odd,” Elaris leaned back in her chair and rocked as she thought. “And they didn’t answer their comlinks, either. Do you think they got themselves into trouble?”

The Markazien shook her head. “Hey, you snooze, you lose,” twirling her blaster on her finger, she smirked grimly. “That’s my motto. We’ll just rub it in their faces when we get back.”

As the ship descended over the prison, Galactic Ranger bots filed out, jumping from the platform and landing soundly on the roof. “Go, go, go!” The squad leader set up a perimeter on the roof and motioned the rest to enter through the hole. They dropped in and surveyed the scene. Guard bots were already thawing each other out of their icy restraints. The mood all-around was frustration at this humiliation.

The warden walked up coolly as Sasha and Cora joined the ranks. “Great, more Rangers! Are you here to break out the rest of my inmates?” he snapped sarcastically.

“What happened here?” Cora glanced around at all the ice and flickering holograms.

“Two of your Rangers came in here, guns a’blazing, and broke out three of our most dangerous criminals.”

Sasha’s eyes widened. Dropping her arms and retracted her blaster, she reached up and grabbed the metallic tie, pulling the warden down to eyelevel. “Which two?”

Surprised, the warden’s eyes widened too as he stared back into the steely blue gaze of the young Cazares. “Our front desk clerk can tell you,” he stammered. “He may have been the first victim frozen, but his hearing wasn’t effected.” Sasha let go and he straightened his tie. The shaken warden waved over at the clerk, who had been thawing out a guard with a hairdryer, then stepped back.

“I’ve been told two of my Rangers are to blame for this,” Sasha’s voice rose, making the normally timid clerk flinch. “I want to know who is responsible—so I can give them what coming to them!”

Even Cora was surprised by her authoritative tone. She walked away nonchalantly and began helping with the thawing process.

“I heard one of them call the Ranger bot, Qwark,” the clerk shuttered, already unnerved by what had already transpired. “He in turn called the cat-like-thing--”

“Ratchet,” Sasha growled, turning away as she thought.

“Uh, yeah,” the clerk scratched at his bald dome.

A commotion came from inside the flickering hologram park. “Capt. Phyronix! Over here!” a Ranger bot called. They had uncovered the grate and were already descending into the sewer pipe. “They escaped through here.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far,” one called from below. “They would have passed out by the smell of it. Phew!”

Sasha tapped her earpiece. “Elaris, where’s this drainage pipe lead?”

“Working on it,” Elaris responded back inside the Phoenix. “It opens up at the river, two miles south from here.”

“Get one of the starships ready for me,” Sasha said and then addressed the rest of her patrol, “I want a team of Rangers to follow that pipe and find the whereabouts of the fugitives.”

Cora stepped towards the opening and looked at the bots around her. “Alright! Whoever’s ready to get their feet wet, follow me!” Some cheered like boys and followed suit, but a few grumbled and complained about having just gotten their boots waxed and polished that morning.

“And you?” The warden brazenly asked the Captain, clasping his hands behind his back and resuming his dull demeanor. “What are you going to do about all this?”

“I’m going to cut them off in their retreat and bring them all back here for questioning.”

“Just that?” He raised a thin metallic brow.

“I may knock a few heads while I’m at it,” Sasha’s hands balled into fists. She fired her jetpack and sprang through the hole in the ceiling. She found a starship waiting for her and jumped in, not wasting any more time.

*

“At this rate, we’ll never get off of Rilgar,” Qwark complained as they waded through knee-deep waters, waist-deep for Ratchet. Private Qwark gagged. “I think the smell’s leaking through my helmet!”

They had activated their oxygen masks because of the foul smell, but Ratchet, who had strapped Clank to his harness again, could imagine several other even worse smells than the sewer pipe. “Don’t be such a pushover, Qwark,” he teased, though sternly. “This stench is nothing compared to a ship full of nervous, sweaty Blarg—or a Snagglebeast with morning breath.”

“Are you still upset about that?” the green hero groaned. “Can’t you just let that one slide? Snowball was just being playful.”

“Trying to tear us limb from limb doesn’t exactly sound like fair play.”

“Maybe for a Lombax, but Snagglebeasts are the friskiest creatures you’ll ever find,” Qwark announced proudly, as if the previously known top secret Blarg project were his own. “There’s nothing quite as moving as a boy playing fetch with his bloodthirsty pet.”

Ratchet stopped and whirled on the demoted Captain. “Ha! Then maybe I should get one of my own and let you play with him!”

“Please,” Clank interrupted. “All this fighting is nonsense. We must cooperate and move onward if we are ever to escape the Rangers.” He blinked. “I cannot believe that I just said that.”

“They’re here?” Qwark raised a brow.

“Already?” Ratchet looked at his friend over his shoulder.

Clank nodded. “My scanners picked up the Starship Phoenix’s signal not too long ago, while you two were bickering.”

“We weren’t bickering,” Qwark smiled and gave an almost too playful rub to Ratchet’s head. “This is just how guys get along with each other, by trying to outdo each other in everything. Even if it’s over who gets the last word.”

“Uh-huh,” Ratchet smiled and kept moving forward.

“That technically doesn’t count as a word.”

“Sure it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does.”

Qwark folded his arms and puffed out his chest in defiance. “It’s onomatopoeia, so there!”

“What? No it’s not.”

“Yes it is!”

“No it’s not!”

Clank sighed and shook his head. “Oh, why do I even bother?”

“Speaking of last words,” Ratchet raised a brow, continuing to wade through the sludge, “weren’t you going to tell us about what you did back there?”

“Well, quite simply—?”

A beeping noise came from Ratchet’s device. “Hold that thought,” he said, glancing at the GPS. The whole screen was flashing. “Ugh! He’s out of range! We need to hurry.”

Splashing and noisiness came from behind them. Qwark looked behind as he heard distant orders being made. “It’s Cora!” he warned, taking bigger strides. “And she does not sound happy.”

Ratchet half swam, half waded behind him. “The opening is up ahead,” Clank announced. “Just make this right turn--”

The exit opened up before them and showed the rainy sky and rippling river. It also showed Captain Phyronix waiting in her starship. She telequipped her Frost Cannon and fired at the sewage, freezing the three escapees in their tracks. Sewer water backed up behind the frosty plug. It came up and over the ice, knocking the tracking device from Ratchet’s hands.

“No!” He reached for it, but it was too late as it tumbled and slid off the edge and into the river below. He pounded his fist against the block of ice and looked up at Sasha irritated. “Are you happy now, Sasha?”

“It’s Captain Phyronix to you,” she smiled. “And, yes. I suppose I am happy now.”

Ratchet’s face twisted into a snarl and he grumbled, “Good, ‘cause things could only get worse.”

The active Captain was puzzled by his response, but kept her blaster aimed at them. Cora and her troop were coming up from behind. “Qwark!” she barked. “You’ve got some explaining to do!”

“Why does everyone think it’s always my fault?” he retorted.

Ratchet just sighed, raising his hands in defeat.

Qwark raised his hands as well, but glared from the corner of his eye.

As Cora and the Galactic Ranger bots pushed their way forward, the sewer water surged with them and beat against the icy blockage. The ice began to rumble and heave. Everyone stopped moving when a large popping sound reverberated across the sewer pipe walls.

“Oh, boy,” Ratchet’s eyes widened as he looked at the drop they were about to make. The ice gave another shudder and then broke, tossing the three of them uncontrollably with the current. They shouted in surprise, arms still raised as they fell into the river. They couldn’t see anything in the swirling dark water, but when a Sharkagator came into view, both groups panicked. When they resurfaced, they spun with an even stronger current down the river, the unblocked sewer pipe creating a wave that propelled them forward and away from one danger and to the next.

“No!” Sasha gasped. “How could I have made such a stupid mistake?”

Cora turned towards her troop. “The water’s too dangerous to go after them like this. Everyone back to the Starship Phoenix.” She turned towards Sasha, who was struggling with what to do. “Well, go after them!”

Sasha snapped out of it and nodded. “Right, right,” she responded breathlessly and hopped back into her starship.

“We’ll be right behind you, Captain,” the senior Ranger called before racing back through the sewer pipe. Then, since no one was watching her, she muttered, “Stay safe, guys.”

Sasha flew her starship after the floating ice raft. Activating a magnetic cable, a blue electric field attached itself to the sheet of ice, inches from Clank’s frozen feet. She looked at her options and growled in her frustration. “I can’t get to them! The water’s too uneven.”

“Let me see,” Elaris said over the comlink, pondering their options as she watched through a small camera on the ship’s hull. “You’re right, there’s no way to get down there and just pick them up. Okay, plan B. Our best route of action right now is to slow them down and push them to shore.”

“Not a lot of mooring options at the moment,” Sasha observed the tall walls of Blackwater City on either side of the river. “But I’ll keep my eyes out.”

“Good. Until then, keep me informed on their progress downstream. If Cora can get back here soon, I might come up with a plan C.”

Sasha’s flight skills were put to the test as she waited and watched for a place to dock the ice flat. The wind beat against her ship, the current dragging her along as well now that she was attached to the ice. A bridge was coming up ahead. Franticly, she adjusted to the wind and prepared to duck underneath the bridge. However, the ice gave a sudden jerk as the current tugged at it. The starship reeled and tipped backwards. The Cazares shouted in surprise, but couldn’t right the ship in time. The tail of the vessel cut through the water and the nose pressed up against the side of the bridge. Sasha put full power into the undercarriage thrusters and pulled against the weight of the ice and the current.

“Warning,” the system announced. “Ship stabilizer malfunction. What would you like to do? If you would like to override automatic controls, press one. If you would like to shut down and restart the system, press two. If you would like to teleject to safety, press three. If you would like to phone a friend or insurance agency, press four.”

“No way I’m abandoning ship,” the Captain ground her teeth as she struggled to keep the vessel stable in its vertical position. “They’re not gonna get away from me that easily.”

“What are you doing!” Elaris yelped in her earpiece. “You need to teleject right now. The current’s too strong.”

“Sorry, Elaris. But last time I checked, I was Captain. I give the orders around here.”

“Not against mother nature and a strong current, you don’t! I’m overriding the system and telejecting you now.”

“What? No!”

“There’s a ladder up ahead to your right. You swim as hard as you can towards it, alright? Cora is on her way now.”

A warning light popped up on Sasha’s screen. “Switching to remote access,” the computer chimed. “Override complete. Prepare for teleject in three…two…”

“Elaris!” Sasha inadvertently took a deep breath.

“One. Thank you for flying air--”

Sasha didn’t hear the rest as her whole body disappeared and materialized outside through the advanced teleportation technology. She fell into the water headfirst. Disorientated for a moment, she then swam to the surface and looked for the ladder. She angled herself towards it. A splashing sound came from behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the starship splash onto the surface of the river and skip towards her. She ducked under the water and watched her ship glide over her head. It also began to sink.

The magnetic cable had not been deactivated and Sasha watched as the ship sank towards the bottom of the river. Resurfacing, she swam for the ice. “Elaris,” she called. “The cable!”

“I don’t understand,” the technician’s voice rose. “The system has shut down. The cable should have retracted. You’ll have to remove it manually and fast!”

Sasha was close to the ice flat now and saw it tip slightly. Grabbing onto the anchor, she pulled at it, but it was no use from in the water. She telequipped a Combuster. Clank waved his hands. “A blaster shot from so close a range it too dangerous!” he warned.

“What else can I do?” she responded rhetorically.

“Ratchet, your OmniWrench might be able to dislodge the anchor before we all sink.”

The Lombax didn’t question the suggestion as the water came over his elbows. Telequipping his OmniWrench, he handed it to Captain Phyronix. She grabbed his arm and took the gadget in her other hand. The water came up to her chin and then finally over their heads as they sank. She beat against the anchor, knocking one section of the grapple up high enough that she could wedge the tip of the gadget between it and the ice. Lifting up, the anchor released the ice and sank down with the ship. The ice, however, rocketed up and jumped from the water.

Sasha lost her grip on Ratchet’s arm and fell backwards into the water. When she resurfaced, all she was holding was the OmniWrench. She saw the Lombax reaching out for her. She didn’t know why she was surprised and hesitated. “Sasha! Take my hand!” She was no fool and swam forward, retracting the gadget to her own weapons locker and grabbed both of his arms.

“You owe me a starship,” she yelled over the wind and waves. “But first, you owe society an apology and _thirty years_ in prison for attempting a jailbreak.”

“Really? Even now, you won’t cut us some slack,” Ratchet stared incredulously.

“Not to interrupt,” Qwark said, nervously pointing ahead of them. “But I was wondering if anyone else could see the dark and menacing wall we’re headed towards.”

“That, Qwark, is a hydroelectric power plant,” Clank explained. “Water goes through the pipes in the wall and spins the turbines, thus producing electricity for the entire city.”

“So, what happens when people fall into the mix?” Qwark gulped.

“That would—oh, dear!”

“Everybody, hold on!” Ratchet braced himself as they careened towards an open pipe, the grate corroded from so much rainfall. Sasha’s grip tightened and Qwark wrapped his arms around the Lombax’s face, blinding him. “Not to me!” he flailed one arm around, trying to pry Qwark’s elbow away from his eyes, but they were all so wet that he couldn’t get a grip. He could feel his stomach lurch as they fell through the pipe.

Everyone shouted and leaned backwards as they dropped down the steep tube. Red lights glowed dimly above them as they swayed this way and that in their ice raft. Clank could feel his feet loosening by the constant jerking back and forth. Once he was able to kick one foot free of the ice, he detached from the harness and tugged the other out. He pulled himself to the front of the raft just in time to see the other end of the pipe opening up to a large chamber, where the turbine rested below, turning violently by all the rainwater gushing into it. Frightened for a moment, Clank shook his head and put his feet forward, channeling his mysterious energy again.

Growing, his feet weighed down onto the floor of the pipe, splashing water everywhere as he brought the raft to a slamming halt at the edge. Water rushed passed the four of them and he had to grab the walls to keep from tumbling forward into the turbine, but they were safe.

“Clank,” Qwark laughed with relief. “You’re alright in my book.”

The robot looked around and noticed the maintenance walkways to their sides. Carefully, the heroes squirmed themselves out of the melting ice and leapt onto the walkways before Clank swung over as well and the ice crashed below into the turbine, making it snow temporarily in the duct. He then shrunk down to normal size, the energy and excitement tiring him slightly.

Sasha too was tired. Hands on her knees, she gasped for breath.

“First field mission?” Ratchet guessed as he deactivated his helmet. “Yeah, I was scared pretty badly too.”

“What do you mean by that?” she snapped, straightening up, tail swishing angrily.

“Oh! Ouch,” Qwark mused in the background as he squelched in his boots.

Ratchet put his hands in front of him again and grimaced. “Nothing! What did I say?”

“Oh, nothing,” Qwark smirked. “Except that you called her a scaredy-cat.”

“No I didn’t,” Ratchet retorted, shaking his head angrily at Qwark and nervously at Sasha. “All I said was I was freaked out too on my first mission.”

Qwark laughed at this, deactivating his green helmet as well. “That you were! I could hear your screams from across Drek Industries.”

“I did _not_ scream.”

“What’s that? Water in my ears.”

“I said that I didn’t--”

“Hands where I can see them,” Sasha ordered, telequipping her Combustor again.

Qwark groaned, furrowing his brow in annoyance. “Oh, right. The fuzz.”

Sasha huffed at the demeaning phrase. “I’ve had just about enough of you three,” she nodded for Clank to join the others and he complied, raising his hands as well. “Cora and the Starship Phoenix will be here any second.”

“Then we should be going,” Private Qwark said. Ratchet smirked sheepishly and stepped aside to reveal the Pixelizer on the demoted captain’s arm. He fired before the Cazares could react and froze her in a static dimension of filmy squares. “She’ll be fine. She might even feel a little better when she snaps out of it. A little more retro and laid back. Oh! She’ll have a better _retro_ spect on things, eh?” Ratchet rolled his eyes and started walking towards the maintenance passage. “What? That one was good! Clank, tell him it was good.”

“Apologize, but I failed to grasp the joke.” The little robot followed them, casting fretful glances back at Captain Phyronix in her paralyzed state. “Was that entirely necessary?”

“Keeps her out of trouble, if you ask me,” Qwark said. “And that Pixelizer is just too cool.”

“And we can’t have her following us,” Ratchet added, not looking back. “Cora will get here before long and take care of Sasha, don’t sweat it.”

“I am still not convinced that this is a good idea, though there really is no other choice as of this moment,” Clank responded despondently. “Ratchet, what will this prove?”

The Lombax looked down on his friend, trying to be encouraging, but just as nervous. “When we prove your innocence, it will prove them wrong!”

“But we are not certain of this stranger’s threat. Could it not have been a bluff to keep you silent?”

“Hey, I know a bluff when I hear one. I’ve dealt with my share of shady people.”

Clank had his doubts in contrast with his friend’s assuredness, but kept them to himself. They began moving through the dark tunnel. “And where are we going?”

“First, to find a ship,” the Lombax replied evenly. “Then, I need to speak with an old acquaintance about retrieving our masked stranger’s signal again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how late this was getting up on here. Battling a cold right now and didn't have time to edit the chapter over the week. But now it's edited and it's all "water under the bridge," right...? Ha...sorry, weak jokes today.
> 
> Well, I hate to admit it, but I did pull a LotR's (Lord of the Rings) semi-quote in here. I wish I hadn't, but there was no time to rewrite that whole section. ("Stale bread" vs. "Maggoty bread") I promise that next week I will do better at getting things edited ahead of time. But I hope you enjoyed this in the mean time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy anniversary to Sly Cooper & the Gang!

Circling around an abandoned warehouse, the dark starship searched for the designated landing space prepared for the pilot’s arrival among the empty crates. The masked figure brought his starship down to the surface, dropping the limp creature into an open and waiting crate. Jumping out of the starship, he and Rotor shook themselves of the adrenaline that had been pumping through their veins and circuitry as they carried the precious cargo back to their homeworld in the Bogon Galaxy. “Nicely done, boy,” the stranger tossed a few lug nuts to the robo-hound as a treat. Rotor eagerly snapped them from the air and munched on them in delight.

“I could say the same about you,” came a familiar voice from behind them. They whirled around and Rotor began to growl excessively, the yellow eye of the cyclops robot flashing with irritation.

Ace crossed his arms and tapped his fingers, also agitated, but for different reasons as he stood by the empty crates across the yard. “I would, but that’d defeat the purpose of my visit.” He pushed away from his resting place and treaded closer, as close as he could without triggering the robo-hound’s defensives. The sunlight glinted across the Cazares’ gold fur and hair, his long, narrow face flashed a toothy grin before returning to a straight face.

The masked figure stood in shock and defeat, unable to get away. That smile had said all. He had been found out.

“There’s a saying, ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.’ Wanna make a wild guess at what that means?” Ace rumbled. “Don’t think I didn’t know it was you keeping the plan behind schedule. Fortunate for us, it played into our favor,” he smirked in victory and then appeared distracted as he surveyed the starship, admiring its sleek, incognito design so contrary, he believed, to the owner’s true nature. “I knew there was something innocent about you, but you’re lucky I give second chances.” He paused. “As of this moment, you’re off the mission until I know what to do with you.” The shadow was about to argue back, but Ace continued, “You’re a good person, but there’s no room for ‘good persons’ on this team. Our plan is to mess with the Rangers, not to make pals with them. We’re villains and don’t tell me that it doesn’t bother you, because it clearly does.” His temper began to rise and he lowered his arms, clenching them by his sides as he leveled himself up with his associate. “Now what were you thinking out there!”

The masked man, clenching his dark teal gloves, thrust out his chest and pulled back his shoulders in an attempt to regain control of the situation. His black mask revaled no emotion. “I was thinking that it was _stupid_ to endanger so many lives over this grudge match!”

The con offered up a sympathetic gaze, barely quenching his annoyance. “You should have stayed in that little lab of yours on Barlow.” He shook his head, tossing his blonde hair lazily back and forth.

“Not like I had much choice in the matter,” the other snapped. “And what about you? Why did you give up all that glory to do something as crazy as this?”

The con’s brow twitched and he snarled at the other. Taking a step forward, putting Rotor on the verge of attack, he leaned forward and hissed, “You know nothing about me.”

Silence followed, except for Rotor’s persistent growling and grinding his jaw. No one would have moved for a while if it weren’t for the stirring mechanics of the tentacle monster in the crate behind them. It had appeared to awaken from a deep cryosleep and showed dislike for its new caged surroundings. Tentacles tried to break through the Plexiglas by banging against it and the latched roof.

“Right, well,” Ace continued. “Don’t expect a tip for the delivery.” He smiled teasingly. “From the moment you left the system to this very second—I knew all along there was something too _good_ about you.”

The shadow trembled with anger, but didn’t say a word, instead crossing his arms and turning his back on the other.

Ace stared up at the crate, watching the machine writhe and shake the container. He appeared more impressed now that he was looking at it from this side of the screen. “It’s like it has a mind of its own,” he mused. “You did good work on this pet of yours. Now, what did you think you’d accomplish by bringing it all the way back here?”

“I’m going to isolate the virus and destroy the whole works, for starters. It needs to be stopped before this type of technology gets into the wrong hands.”

Ace burst out laughing at that remark. “Kid, it’s already there.”

It was the defendant’s turn to turn on Ace in irritation. “I won’t stand for this type of…of—meddling! Why wouldn’t he let me just hack into Gadgetron’s systems and delete the files? All this could have been avoided then.”

“Because,” Ace groaned, rolling his whole head at the simplicity of the answer. “Lumos could just duplicate the prototypes. And then what would the sudden disappearance of top-secret weapons specs look like to your beloved Rangers, hm?”

“Sabotage,” the shadow surmised ruefully.

Ace nodded and smiled, glad to see them eye-to-eye for the moment. “That’s why we’ve got to be more artful than tactical in this case. We’ve gotta make it appear that something is wrong with the Ranger’s new toys, so generously provided by Mr. Lumos.” He draped an arm around his compatriot’s shoulder, giving a slight shake as if it could get the rest of the point across. No such luck, so he continued, “We have to misdirect the blame from us to other sources.” The Cazares released his thinking partner and returned to searching the ship’s hull. “It worked with that little robot of theirs.”

The masked figure shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be so easily pushed over, Ace.”

“Together, more than likely they’d work out their differences and overcome anything that comes their way, that’s the whole point of teamwork,” he droned. He then spotted a little disk on the bumper of the midnight black starship. Plucking it off, he triumphantly displayed it, glinting in the sunlight between his fingers, “But if they so happen to get split up, it might be an easier task.” He tossed it towards the other and the masked figure caught it.

Upon closer inspection of the disk, he gasped. “A tracking beacon?” He tossed it back as if it had suddenly bit him.

“Now the fight is coming to us,” Ace smiled, grabbing the device and enclosing it with a fist. He stretched and rubbed his back as he turned to walk away. “And I for one can’t wait to get away from that blasted desk. Now, c’mon. I need everyone back at headquarters. Unless,” he cast a curious glance behind him. “Unless you’re having second thoughts. Which, I should warn you, will probably lead to more trouble for you.”

The masked figure felt trapped. Rotor looked up at him and whined, understanding his frustration. By bringing the virus back from Solana, they had just put the Rangers in greater danger. If the masked figure was ever in some way to prevent any great harm from coming to anyone because of his actions, he thought it best to stick around a little longer and take precautions himself. “No,” he sighed reluctantly. Then, putting on a sterner composure, he added, “I’ll join you and the others soon.” Ace smiled his approval and walked off, leaving the shadow to deal with his mistake.

*

It wasn’t easy, but Ratchet, Clank, and Qwark managed to slip back through another portion of sewer pipes that connected to a drainage point beneath their still parked starship in front of the Iron Hold II. Qwark, wanting to redeem himself for his lack of strength before, attempted to lift the grate that was fortunately placed underneath the vehicle. Pressing his hands against it, it wouldn’t budge, but then after shoving at it several times with his broad, green-clad shoulders, it dislodged and he managed to slide it aside with a lot of huffing and puffing. “They don’t give lower ranked Rangers as nutritious of meals as you guys,” he fibbed, hoping to excuse his mediocre performance.

Ratchet and Clank couldn’t care any less and were just thankful that they could leave the sewers behind. Looking up from the rim of the opening, they noted that the guards had overlooked their masked vehicle.

“Clever disguise,” Clank commented as they quickly squirmed out from underneath and into the starship. “But Elaris will not be pleased to hear that her Hologuise was used for an act of felony.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ratchet muttered.

“One question,” Qwark asked, squeezing his large, muscular build into the cramped backseat. “Why didn’t we head through the sewers this way in the first place? Couldn’t that GPS thing-ie of yours at least give a map of the sewers?”

Everyone heaved a sigh and let the question go unanswered, too late to do anything about it now. Taking off, they slipped through Rilgar’s atmosphere and into the seclusion of space with no surprises.

They flew silently for a while, Clank looking out the ship’s cockpit at the colorfulness of the planets and stars surrounding them, but primarily was busy calculating the success of their mission. It did not look good. “Where are you going, Ratchet?” he asked.

“To the Shadow Sector to talk to a guy named Pawl Shackleton, an expert in radio waves and mechanics,” Ratchet responded, easing back into his chair. “I met him, uh, through a friend.”

“The Shadow Sector?” Clank repeated.

“As in that illegal, black market, murderous portion of Solana?” Qwark asked with widening blue eyes. “That Shadow Sector?”

“Relax,” Ratchet smiled to ease the tension rising in his friends. “I’ve been there several times—with a friend for, uh, research purposes?”

Clank gave him a peculiar look and Ratchet did his best to ignore it, but cracked. “Alright, I find most of the parts I need for starship modifications here. They’re cheaper and—”

“And usually volatile,” the little robot added sternly.

Qwark gave a nervous chuckle, “Good thing we’re flying in my ship then, right?”

“Hey, a good mechanic knows how to work with a wide variety of materials and keep them from blowing up in his or her face,” Ratchet hoped to build up a defense for himself, but feared that he would lose this battle soon enough. “Look, we all make bad decisions, but can we get off the subject of _my_ life choices and get back to saving the day and all that heroic stuff?”

“Sure,” Qwark glanced nervously side to side out the front windshield, swiping his three-fingered hand fretfully over his pale, prominent chin. “But how do you expect to fly into that sizzling cesspool of thugs and cheapskates without being shot down?”

“I’ve got this. I know what to do,” the Lombax assured them. Then, catching the smallest Ranger’s doubtful look, he quickly added, “My friend taught me. Research.”

“And this friend of yours,” Qwark frowned down at the little Lombax from the backseat, like a burly vulture narrowing in on a defenseless creature. “He doesn’t happen to be a fellow black market dealer, hm?”

As if on que, a radio transmission wave garbled out on their ship’s speakers, cutting off Ratchet's reply. “Ranger Starship, you have flown into hostile territory,” the unseen communicator warned. “I recommend you turn tail and head back to where you came from.”

“Oops,” Ratchet grimaced as he looked outside at their Ranger blue starship, hologuise still activated. “Uh, Breaker Zeta, this isn’t what it looks like. We’ve, uh, pinched a Ranger’s ride and are heading home to make some deals on its parts.”

“And where might home be, Baby Bear?”

“He’s not buying it,” Qwark whispered anxiously in a singsong voice. He looked around, but couldn’t seem to find the location of the hidden starship. There were new planets in the system and an asteroid belt encircling the little cluster, one portion open like a front gate, but also as a trap. Once they had flown in, there was little chance of flying back out.

“Catacrom IV,” Ratchet chuckled equally as nervous and franticly searching the surroundings for the grumpy scout. “Where else would a mechanic feel at home if not surrounded by a robot graveyard?”

Clank’s green optics widened at the brief, but frightening description.

“Hm…” there was silence over the radio as the guard thought about Ratchet’s logic. “You sound familiar. I haven’t been to Catacrom IV in ages, but have we done business before? What’s your name, son?”

“I’m Ratchet,” he gasped and bit his tongue, but it was too late. Clank and Qwark both slapped their faces, expecting the worst.

“Ratchet? As in that Ranger?” the voice on the other side of the radio grew hoarse.

“No, no,” the other coughed and chuckled, already looking for an escape route. “That other Ratchet, you know. Fuzzy ears, leather gloves, uh, bushy mustache?” He grimaced, unsure of what to do next if a chase was to begin.

Again, there was silence over the radio. “Oh! I remember you,” Breaker Zeta’s voice filled with recognition. “Been a while. You used to be a regular at my custom parts shop on Maraxus. Last time I saw you, I sold you that nitro-powered accelerator.”

They all began to laugh now, tension alleviating from the situation. “Yup, that’s me,” Ratchet began to relax some, flexing his fingers around the yoke of the starship.

“Say, how’s that working out for you? I hope you’ve installed it in that fancy Ranger Starship of yours, ‘cause I still haven’t gotten paid for that deal.”

All laughter died out. Cannon fire came from behind them as the opposing chrome starship made itself known. It took flight from its resting place on a spinning asteroid at the edge of the belt. “Switching to evasive maneuvers,” Ratchet warned the passengers as he changed gears and manually flew the ship wildly about. The shots missed them by microcubits as the young Ranger piloted them about.

Clank gripped his seatbelt as they flew, having flown several times with the reckless Lombax. To take his mind off of the wild ride, he decided to make himself useful. “My scanners indicate that his starship contains thrusters from a star-one racing ship, an aerodynamic, military-grade exoskeleton, and two cup holders.”

“Great, so we’re being chased by a masterpiece,” Ratchet grunted as he swerved around an asteroid and into the belt, hoping to out-maneuver the artist in question. “For the record,” Ratchet shouted at their assailant, “it blew up when I turned it on!”

“My stuff never blows up!” Breaker Zeta retorted, easily making the turn into the asteroid belt and continuing his pursuit. “Except when I want it to.” The floating chunks of rock helped deflect some of his blows from hitting the disguised blue starship and soon enough he had to stop firing just to focus on diving between narrowing gaps.

“Don’t dint the hood!” Qwark yelled as small chunks of asteroid became near impossible to avoid, bouncing off the ship, but making minimal damage to it. Ratchet tried his best, but his piloting skills were put to the test. Two large asteroids were closing in on either side of them from the front, but the ship was boxed in between smaller fragments, unable to move out of the way.

“Hold on,” the driver ordered as he sped up.

“Ratchet!” Clank warned, unable to look away from the danger they were heading towards. He gripped the seat until the little robot sat even more rigidly. The Lombax ignored him and kept his focus on the narrowing space between the two asteroids, their attacker catching up to them faster than they could go.

The gap narrowed to a near sliver and the Ranger banked the ship on its side, scratching the top and bottom of it before barrel rolling out of the tight situation. The two asteroids knocked together and fragmented. The Rangers cheered their escape and drove a little further as the tension died down.

But the scout’s custom starship pulled up and over the rocks at a near impossible angle. “Right,” Ratchet sighed resentfully, “military-grade aerodynamics.”

“Here’s your stop,” Breaker Zeta said over the speakers. He fired and nailed a hit in the exposed thrusters behind the ship, tearing one apart. The blue starship fell out of control towards the planet beneath it, the passengers and driver screaming as they dropped through the atmosphere. But as Breaker Zeta moved out of the asteroid belt, laughing at his feat, he failed to notice the debris from the two larger asteroids drift towards him from behind. The two smaller asteroids drifted closer and closer until they clipped off the chrome-colored starship’s wings. “Oh,” the driver groaned and could only sit in the pod as it drifted through the belt.

The remaining three characters, meanwhile, were plummeting fast through the air of the planet below. Ratchet pulled hard on the yoke, hoping to lessen their steep drop. “Ratchet!” Clank pointed to their left at a river. “Try over there!”

The pilot attempted to swerve the doomed starship and make a water landing. The body eventually evened out and then headed towards the surface of the water. The ship hit the water and skipped across several times, spinning around helplessly at one point, before coming to an abrupt halt halfway in a scrap heap. Tilting forward, it fumbled out of the mound and landed harshly on the ground.

Head lolling back and forth, Ratchet opened the hatch and crawled out. He leaned against the damaged ship and tried to hold back the nausea threatening his stomach. “Everyone—bwah—okay?”

“Fully operational, but unhinged,” Clank responded shakily as he jumped from the ship beside him.

“I am most certainly _not_ okay,” Qwark complained as he hopped out last, teetering on his large feet a bit before looking piteously at his vehicle. “Look at my baby!”

Ratchet surveyed the damages and jerked his thumb at the glossy hood, now reverted to its Qwark green color after the hologuise gave out. “Hey! I didn’t dint the hood,” but nearly as soon as he said so, the top flew open and threw the piece into the river behind them.

Clank looked around them and searched for signs of civilization. “Where are we? My starcharts have not been upgraded with these planets.”

Ratchet looked back and forth at the scenery and smiled. “Good news,” he replied. “We landed on Catacrom IV.”

“Any more bad news you wish to share, _Captain_?” Qwark gave up on his ship and sulkily joined the others on the riverbank.

“Just one,” the Lombax’s smile wavered as he continued to look up and down the river.

“Yes?” his friends urged.

Ratchet’s fuzzy, long ears drooped and he limply gestured, “I don’t know where we are.”

***

Elaris looked closely at Brax’s broken Lancer and compared it with the one Ratchet had tested in the training room. Her quarters were dimmed, all the light she needed was focused on her desk and tools strewn about on a tray beside her. She lowered a magnifying glass from above her and angled it with the blaster, hoping to see more detail than the obvious blackened barrel, curled outward like a banana. “Why did you break?” she muttered as she poked at it. “You should have been working perfectly.”

The door flew open and the automated lights flickered on throughout the rest of the room, distracting the technician at work. Cora, Sasha, and Brax, using a crutch to support himself, walked in. “How’s it coming?” Brax asked, more curious than ever before about what may have happened that night in the alley. It seemed so long ago with all that had happened.

“It’s not,” the technician answered, pushing back from her desk and rubbing her eyes with thin, pale fingers. She let her hands drop to her sides and leaned back, her obsidian horn-like hair hooking around the back of the chair as she looked up absentmindedly at the corner of the room. “I can’t find a cause for the malfunction.”

“Malfunction?” the Captain cocked her brow.

Elaris nodded and gestured to the broken blaster behind her. “None of the new weapons Brax used actually worked. They more than likely blew up in his face and that’s why he can’t remember what happened to him. They’re severely damaged, but I can’t find a definitive cause. But enough about me, what about you?” Her green eyes shaded over with worry. “Did you find them?”

“Yes and no,” Brax shrugged, hauling himself over to the worktable in the middle of the room and leaning against it.

“They got away,” Cora growled, crossing her arms. “I just don’t get why they would do such a stupid thing in the first place.”

“Ratchet and Clank have grown to be great friends since we first met,” Elaris offered sadly, twiddling her thumbs. Her pale face growing paler as she thought about their missing friends. “I knew it would be hard for them to accept the court’s verdict, but I never imagined that they’d do something as stupid as a jail break.”

“And what about Qwark?” Brax asked. “Doing stupid things is how he rolls, but why help them out? He’s never really been fond of the space-rat.”

Sasha rapped her fingers on her arms and then placed them on her hips when no one answered immediately, “I’d think it’s obvious. He’s trying to redeem himself.” The Rangers stirred at her words. “He thinks that this is the right thing to do.”

“Is it?” Cora frowned, thinking about her runaway friends. “After the trial, the team’s felt so…”

“Broken,” Elaris nodded understandingly. “First it was Qwark’s betrayal, and now Ratchet and Clank.”

“We’re half the team we used to be,” Brax added.

Captain Phyronix looked between the three of them and huffed arrogantly. “Well, if it’s too tough for the three of you, I might as well do the job myself.”

“Excuse me?” Cora snapped from her morose thoughts, reverting from a concerned friend to a warrior Markazian in seconds. “And how do you intend to do that without a team?”

“The same way I keep this organization up and running,” Sasha argued, tall, brown ears perked forward and her striped tail swishing back and forth.

Brax snickered, “With glue and bobby pins?” The muscular reptile's shoulders heaved up and down in quiet laughter at his own joke.

“No,” Sasha leered at him from the corner of her eye. “By staying one step ahead.”

“Well, how are you gonna do that?”

“I was wondering," Sasha turned to Elaris at her desk, directing her question towards her, "doesn’t the weapons log not only show when the weapons were retracted from their lockers, but also where to?”

Elaris sat up straighter and snapped her fingers. “That’s right! You can go check the logs from the lockers in the training room.”

“So you’re gonna go play cat and mouse all alone?” Cora asked, unconvinced of the accuracy of Sasha’s plan. She narrowed her eyes at the young Captain. She was just a kid in her eyes, having just tried and failed in her first field assignment. She needed coaching first before attempting another apprehension of the three.

Sasha wanted to put the Ranger back in her place, but steeled herself from arguing anymore. Taking a deep breath, she calmed her nerves just enough so she could focus on her plan. “I’ll take one of the starships and bring them back soon.”

Cora couldn’t let the young Captain get away so easily. Straightening in her Ranger-blue uniform, she marched in front of Sasha and barred her from the exit. Lifting a thin, tan brow, she glared down her pointed nose at her superior, like the dangerous elfin-creature she was. “And you’re _sure_ you want to take down three seasoned Rangers all by yourself, noob?”

“Cora,” Brax’s tone gave a warning. Cora was always a highflier, the youngest to have been trained to be a Ranger, and consequently demanded respect from everyone. She was tough when she was a cadet and even more skilled as a fledged Galactic Ranger. However, Brax didn’t think it was such a respectful thing to be talking as she had to someone, though even younger, who had the ability to knock a senior Ranger down a notch or two in ranking.

Sasha appeared to be thinking the same thoughts, but instead of displaying her authority over them, she frowned and decided to explain, “I know it won’t be easy, but if I bring a big group with me we won’t have the element of surprise. And I can’t bring any of you three with me because you’re too easily recognized.”

“I can’t help it I’m so handsome,” Brax winked.

“What about you, Captain?” Elaris stood from her chair and walked a little further, still unsure about Sasha’s decision. “Won’t you be recognized?”

“It’s one thing to go alone and wear a disguise,” Sasha clarified, a tinge of sadness seeping into the young Cazares' features. “It’s another when you’re never given the chance to make a name for yourself.” She huffed and shoved past the perplexed Ranger barring her way. This would be the only time she’d admit that having no reputation was a good thing. She wouldn’t have to try hard to conceal herself.

“What do you think she meant by that?” Elaris asked as she sat back down in her chair.

The other two Rangers shrugged in response. “If she’s leaving, though, I’m in charge,” Cora proudly pointed at herself.

“You!” Brax grunted, knocking his crutch on the floor violently. “Says who?”

“Says years of experience,” Cora teased, leaning forward with a mocking grin.

“Blade of Argos,” the warrior breathed in astonishment. “She’s gonna make us run laps!”

“That’s not all,” Cora called behind her as she walked into the hall. Brax hobbled after her as she explained a completely new, rigorous training schedule for the Galactic Rangers to follow while she was temporary Captain. As they walked, a tour group passed by them, led by a smartly painted tour-bot. The crowd cheered when they saw the two famous Rangers and rushed to get autographs from them, the tour-bot helpless to calm them down.

As the chaos of shaking hands and signing tablets became overwhelming for both Rangers and robot, a single character slipped out of the group and headed confidently towards the technicians lab. He entered and Elaris turned around in her chair, shocked to see him. He was a tall, slim robot, wearing a foreign green and yellow military uniform. “Pleasure to meet ya, ma’am,” he said as the door slid closed behind him.

Elaris’ senses were on fire at the sight of him. He looked like trouble, but he appeared unarmed. “I’m sorry,” she said rising, standing in front of the working Lancer on her desk. Reaching behind herself, she gripped it. “But I don’t think you have permission to be in here.”

“Not me specifically, but I come on request of a higher authority,” he said, straightening a little and placing his hands behind his back as well. “Now, normally I wouldn’t even consida kidnappin’ a bright Sheila, such as ya’self, I myself am an inventa, but—” he began, but was cut off shortly as Elaris accidentally pulled the trigger in surprise as her brain registered what he had said. A fireball bounced around the room, both people dodging this way and that to avoid it. It nicked the arm of the soldier as he ducked and covered his head and flew back around the room, destroying the weapon it came from.

Elaris looked up from her place under the desk and narrowed her eyes in disappointment at the frailty of the device. “Nice,” she growled. “Not your best craftsmanship, Mr. Lumos.”

“’Scuse me, ma’am,” the visitor’s voice rumbled. She turned around, nearly forgetting about him, and noticed him glaring at the scratched paint on his armor. “But now ya’ve gone and made me mad.”

Elaris froze with fear as she knelt on the floor. Before the robot could reach her from around the worktable, however, she looked around the desk and spotted the bright red emergency button underneath. She slammed her fist against it just as he stopped behind her. An alarm blared, and Elaris rolled away from the intruder and regained her footing, lifting her fists before her. “You forget, I’m a Galactic Ranger too.”

Bright red lights began turning on across the whole Hall of Heroes. The building began to lock down, dropping all doors in the building and generating an electromagnetic shield across the windows. A computerized voice announced the trouble to the frightened and startled people within the building. “INTRUDER IN SECTOR SEVEN—VISITORS PLEASE REMAIN CALM—PROCEED TO CAFETERIA FOR SAFETY PRECAUTION AND FREE VANILLA CONES,” it repeated over and over.

The tour-bot guiding the group that had engulfed Brax and Cora began rounding up the confused people and urged them on their way to the cafeteria. Once the Rangers were free, they looked at each other with furrowed brows.

“Sector seven?” Cora asked. “I didn’t know there was more than five.”

Brax scratched his temple from underneath his tinted shades. “Seven?” he looked around and spotted the tour-bot bringing up the back of the group. “Hey! Buddy! Tuxedo!” he called until the robot turned around. “Where’s sector seven?”

The robot processed the information and then pointed out, “Sector seven: Technicians Lab. This lab is the beauty of the Hall of Heroes, where all the weapons used by our protectors are designed and tested—”

“The lab!” the two others gasped and rushed back around the corner, leaving the robot to try and finish his description double-time as they got farther away. When they reached it, they found the door locked. Cora placed her hand on the DNA scanner and telequipped her new Lancer. Brax resorted to a different weapon.

Cora could smell his choice of gadget before she even saw it. “Really?” the woman gagged. “Predator Launcher?”

“Hey, it locks onto enemies so I don’t have to,” he gestured at his otherwise occupied arm holding the crutch while cocking his slimy, charged weapon. The synthetic creature inside giggled with anticipation of an attack.

Cora rolled her eyes and pressed the unlock button. The door flew open and they braced themselves. Nothing happened and the room remained dark, lights not operating under the lockdown. The two Rangers took cautionary steps inside and then lowered their weapons. “No one’s here,” Brax observed.

“Yeah,” Cora lowered her weapon, glancing around the room. Her eyes widened and she wheeled towards her friend. “So where’s Elaris?”

They both couldn’t hide their panic and began searching the area painstakingly for clues. Other Galactic Ranger bots showed up and guarded the door as well as helped search for any sign of the missing technician.

Brax’s foot kicked a heavy object sticking out from under the worktable. He crossed his eyes and ground his teeth to keep from shouting in pain. Looking down at what he had kicked, he bent over to pull it out. “I think I found something,” he called. Once he pulled it out, he set it on the worktable for everyone to see. “It’s a gadget, of some sort.” He cocked his head slightly as he examined it.

“No, duh,” Cora sighed. “But which one is it?”

The weapon was a blockish, blue handheld firearm of a large size, but not quite as large as, say, the Negotiator. It showed signs of being used and held a similar, blackened nozzle as the broken Lancer. The group puzzled over it before one piped up, “It says here that it’s called the Rift Inducer.” Everyone looked up at the Ranger bot expectantly. All eyes on him, he began to falter. He pointed up at the computer screen above him where he got the information from. It cycled through the new weapons package from Gadgetron, revealing all the information they needed to know. “It opens up a portal to a manmade pocket dimension where someone keeps a monstrous pet named, uh, Fred?”

“It was released the same time as the Lancer,” Cora mused.

“The same one that blew up in my face,” Brax growled as he saw the exact one on the desk next to him. His face fell and he gulped, “You don’t think…do you?”

“I wish I didn’t,” Cora bit her lip and looked with him at the banana-shaped gadget.

“What’s the big idea, leaving us out of the telepathic loop,” the robot from before complained. “What are y’ all talking about over there?”

“Cool it!” another robot slapped his metallic hand over the other’s mouth. “That dangerous weapon’s from the same package Job gave to Ms. Elaris, the one full of faulty weapons.”

“You don’t mean!”

The other Ranger bot nodded solemnly.

Hurried steps came down the hall and the mailroom robot leaned in the doorway. “I heard the alarm and came to see if I could help,” Job panted.

“Arrest this treasonous bot!” one of the robots shouted, leading the group into a dogpile on top of the innocent machine. “What have you done with Elaris, Job?”

*

Elaris kicked and screamed vengefully against the robot’s grip as he carried her over his shoulder. “If you don’t put me down, I’m gonna—”

The kidnapper didn’t hear a word she said. His sensors were locked in on a local radio station and he was humming along with the tune of a song. Giddily, he tossed a small medallion up in the air and caught it again with his free hand. Walking around a corner in an alleyway miles from the Hall of Heroes, he spotted his starship, a bulky green camo vehicle that barely looked fit enough to fly. Touching a button on his medallion, the starship unlocked and opened the trunk. He tossed the Ranger in there, her hands bound.

“Don’ worry ‘bout getting’ bored on the flight, miss,” he grinned, one hand on the top of the trunk door. “I’ve got speaka’s even in he’a, so I’ll make sure t’ make ya trip entatainin’ with some tunes.” He closed the trunk lid before she could retaliate and he headed towards the driver’s seat, bouncing along with the music playing in his head. Hopping in, he closed the hatch and took off, leaving Aleero City and the Kerwan far behind them.

*

In a dreary white cell in solitary confinement, Booz McCain sat on his bed with a crossword puzzle across his lap. Chewing on the end of his pen, he grumbled to himself as he read. “Four down…lemme see, ‘A large, dense mass used to destroy a team of heroes,’ hm?” He tapped his chin. “Four letters…large, dense mass?” He became frustrated and bit the end of the pen off, squirting ink across the room and against the one-way mirror.

“You’re cleaning that up,” the warden’s voice came from the speakers as he walked by on the opposite side and down the halls as inmates mopped up the water.

Grumbling, McCain lugged himself off the bench to do as told. But as he moved, a package fell out of his back compartment and clattered to the floor. The hulking robot halted halfway across his perfectly white cell to stare at the stained, yellow parcel.

Far more interested in this, he left the stain to drip down the mirror so he could satisfy his curiosity. He lifted it up, shook it for a moment, and opened it up to reveal a brass ring. There was no note, no clue as to who it was from, but McCain had a feeling that this ring was important.

He looked it over between his blocky fingers. Its brass clasp was nothing impressive, banged and bent to shape the perfect size for his robot hand. But the lustrous blue jewel in the center was enough to make him grin foolishly. Eagerly, he slipped it onto his right ring finger and brought his hand in front of him, now improved with unimaginable tech. He tapped the jewel to no effect until he clenched his hand, disappearing in a cloud of blue smoke and electricity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Cold's gone, but I'm back! And have I got plans coming up for this story--but first, a shout-out.  
> So, I’ve been told that I don’t describe my characters as much as I could, that there could be more visual description going on here. I’ve never put much thought into it before, supposing that everyone kinda just knew what these characters looked like. Word of the wise: never assume anything.  
> This edited chapter goes out to the Ratchet & Clank newbies who surprised me in reading this. Your honest feedback is precious gold to me! I can’t express my appreciation enough. You know who you are :)  
> And, yeah! The rest of you are incredibly quiet. We're eight chapters in and I'm setting the stage for Act 2 or the B Story or whatever it is you'd like to call it. (I'm so excited to share some of these upcoming chapters with you all! I'm tempted to just post some of 'em now or even spoil a few tidbits!) Remember the tags above? "Work in Progress" and "No Prior Gaming Experience with the Franchise." Feel free to comment and give some helpful feedback to a noob like myself. I'd appreciate it! I love Ratchet & Clank, and I suppose you love it too--or are at least intrigued by the story concept if you're reading this.  
> Oh! But before I forget, remember what Ratchet said during his interview with the Rangers on Veldin? All those citations they listed off? I give some background for that black market accelerator here. Eh? See what I did there?  
> And the answer to the crossword, "ROCK." Yeah...Victor was a strange one. (It's from the movie.)  
> Hope you all enjoyed! Come back next Saturday and meet a new character (my OC) named Pawl Shackleton, a sly Vullard used to getting his way. I hope you find him an interesting guy...and I'll explain for newcomers what a Vullard is _next_ time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I haven't been on for a while because, well, life. Nothing serious, just a sudden influx of responsibilities and it's unfortunately taken a lot of my time away from me. But this week HOPEFULLY *fingers crossed* I will be able to fix all that and get everyone up to date.  
> Introducing the LaughingLombax Marathon! Tonight (Sunday) I will post this chapter, so keep an eye out for Wednesday evening and this Saturday for the following chapters.

Qwark marched grumpily through the swampy junkyard, slipping in murky puddles and cringing at the squelching in his boots. Each step was like stepping on a rubber duck, he thought to himself. That is, if one would find rubber ducks lying around in the streams of toxic waste he found occasionally on his trek. However, despite the dangers the unknown territory in the depths of the Shadow Sector which were presented to him, his Ranger instincts helped him overlook them as mere inconveniences as he continued on his mission. That or he did not realize that he was supposed to be looking out for potential threats. But his mind was focused on other things besides the task charged him.

“I help that Lombax get his friend back, and what thanks do I get?” He said to no one in particular, because he was all alone as he marched through unlabeled paths. “‘Qwark, leave the ship behind, we can’t carry it with us,’” the green hero began mocking Ratchet’s voice, speaking too high-pitched anyway. “‘We need to find a way to the trading post. Qwark, could’ja find some sort of landmark for us? Qwark. Qwark. Qwark!’ It wasn’t so long ago that I was _Captain_ Qwark.”

Private Qwark kicked a rusty can into a glowing green stream and watched it fizzle. “I’ve never been so insulted in all my life! No, ‘Please, do our job for us, sir’ or ‘Thanks for letting me trash your ship, _Captain_ , it blew up real well!’” He arrogantly decided to stop looking for a landmark and sat down on an overturned fridge at the base of a pile of junk. “I deserve better than this!” But almost as soon as he said it, he frowned and then gasped. “Or the universe isn’t through punishing me yet.” He looked up at the cloudless blue sky and puffed out his heroic chest, brandishing his electric-Q logo on his uniform. “Is this fair judgment, really? A guy signs a legally binding contract with a psychopath the one time and it’s a life of misery from then on? I should have never written that soliloquy for you back in high school, Karmin!”

“It’s called karma,” Ratchet replied.

Qwark yelped and sprang to his feet at the sight of the two smaller Rangers from the other side of the junk pile. “Oh, I, uh, was practicing my, uh….”

“Soliloquy on karma?” Clank suggested, intrigued by the idea of such a dramatic piece.

Deciding to change the subject--and fast--Qwark leered at the other two and asked, “Have you two been following me this whole time? I can handle a little walk through a junkyard on my own, thank you very much.”

“The whole planet’s a junkyard, Qwark,” Ratchet pointed out, brushing past the prideful tone in Qwark’s voice. “And, no, you’ve been circling the same path for hours. Would it kill ya to walk in a straight line? Perhaps you could have found something by now, rather than spiraling out of control and reciting poetry.”

“Well, I’m _so_ sorry to disappoint! Perhaps if someone could have saved my ship from being totally, uh, totaled, I could have downloaded the coordinates through a satellite or something.”

Ratchet’s ears pricked slightly as the demoted Captain irked his senses. Staying his own tone, he spoke up, furrowing his thick eyebrows, “Perhaps, if someone had been paying attention to the fact that I just saved our lives, we might have already moved on from that already.” Ratchet’s tail swished. “And did you notice while you were stargazing that there are no satellites in the Shadow Sector?”

“Now, why would anyone do that?” Private Qwark waved his hands dismissively as he thought about the ridiculous setup, in his opinion. “How’s anyone gonna watch TV? Cable, blech!”

“You’re standing on a black market planet, Qwark! Do you think they’d want the police hacking into their systems?”

“I believe,” Clank grunted as he pushed his way between the two opposing heroes, spacing them out slightly from one another, “we should drop this pointless argument and start heading towards the east.”

“Oh, yeah?” Qwark crossed his arms and turned his back to them. “And why should I follow you two around anymore, like a cadet to his idol? Huh?”

“I don’t believe this,” the Lombax muttered as he threw his hands down, baffled by his once-hero.

“Because that man over there is heading in that general direction,” the robot continued, pointing towards a native hopping in a vehicle and driving off.

“C’mon, Clank,” Ratchet rolled his shoulders and started walking where the smallest Ranger had pointed. “If Qwark thinks everyone is against him, then he can go it alone from now on.”

Clank only stared at the Lombax as he walked slowly away. The robot didn’t move and decided that he wouldn’t leave his spot. He clopped his iron foot down, tired of his friend’s recent change in attitude and boldly replied, “No, Ratchet.”

Ratchet stopped and turned around, surprised.

“You are forgetting that we are a team.”

“Well, Qwark’s not really helping out.”

Clank shook his head and stood his ground, feeling as if he were towering over the other two. “We are three outsiders on a foreign and dangerous planet. This should not divide us, but make us work harder together.”

“And how do you suppose we work with someone like that?” Ratchet gestured towards the green hero, who was pretending not to listen. “Ever since he was demoted, he’s been acting like a one-man-show.”

“And you have not?”

“What are you talking about?” Ratchet faltered in his composure, afraid of what his friend might say, but ready to defend himself.

“Being a leader comes with certain responsibilities and you have ignored them more than once by now for your own gain,” Clank lectured, green optics flashing. “Aiding in a prison break? Seeking help in an illegal sector? Concealing criminal behavior from the proper authorities?” 

“For my own gain? Look, pal, I'm doing this for you! And I told you, we’d be putting the city in danger if we made a full scale assault on either the thief or the mech.”

“But have you not done that twice already?”

Ratchet closed his mouth. He turned his face away from them and tried to make sense of it, to reason a way out of his mistake. No, it wasn't a mistake. It couldn't be. Yet, there was the gnawing feeling that maybe, just maybe, he had fallen for a bluff. No...maybe...? But he'd come this far! No, he had to be right. There was no going back. He had done the right things, made the right choices...right?

He brought his hand forcefully to his head and groaned, painfully unsure of himself at this moment.

“Not so easy being Captain, now is it?” Qwark huffed, casting a blue-eyed leer towards the thoughtful Lombax.

“Yeah, well,” the other retorted, looking for a way to defend himself still. He looked between the two of them and their expectant looks. Frustrated, he shook his head and turned back towards the trade post’s general direction. “We can’t do anything about it now. We’re wasting time.”

“Ratchet,” the robot’s voice became concerned.

“Save it, Clank,” Ratchet didn’t look back as he marched onward down one of the many worn paths. “We’ve got to clear our names and stop a team of thugs from terrorizing any more civilians.” Or from making me look like a fool anymore, he added grimly to himself.

A distant drumming in Qwark’s ears gradually grew louder. He turned his head to the right and spotted the danger Clank was trying to warn his friend about. “Whoa now!” Qwark reached out, pulling the young Ranger out of the way of a speeding hover-bike.

The driver laughed and leaned over the side, snatching Clank up by the antenna. “Mind if I borrow this li’l fella, you know, indefinitely?” His glove sent sparks down the little robot’s antenna and shut down his system before tossing him into a basket full of other robotics attached to the back of the bike.

Ratchet’s stomach flopped around inside of him as he saw the biker hurry away. “Clank!” He made to move and catch up with them, but a new group of bikers arrived and began circling the two of them.

“Finally!” Qwark smiled as he and Ratchet stood back-to-back, tall humanoid to small alien-cat. “A fair fight!”

“There are four of them and two of us,” Ratchet responded, but then smiled wickedly. “Maybe they should call some friends.”

Both Rangers activated their helmets and went to access their weapons lockers. “WEAPONS LOCKER OUT OF RANGE!” The computers blared a barrage of warnings across the screens on their visors.

“The scrap metal must be messing with the signal,” Ratchet noted as he turned his head to either side and saw just how innumerous the glittering mounds were. “We need to get to higher ground.”

“Or,” Qwark suggested, rolling his shoulders and dramatically cracking his neck, “we could go old school with a little fist ‘o cuffs.”

Ratchet looked at a particularly beefy biker who leered at him as he circled around with the other three. The Ranger grabbed a nearby pipe and held it firmly. “Not really my forte.” He looked around for some way to escape the shrinking circle. Spotting a teetering hovercar from the top of a nearby mound of junk, he devised a quick plan. “I prefer fighting long-range.” He pulled his arm back and swung the pipe forward, releasing it as it spiraled up towards the object. The tool nicked the front of the vehicle and came flying back to Ratchet. The Ranger snatched it up and nudged Qwark to catch his attention.

The bikers stopped circling and stared up at the hovercar as it slowly pivoted on the small peek of the trash heap. “Cute,” one snickered. “Like a ballerina.” They turned their attention back to the two Rangers and revved their bikes’ engines.

The hovercar above them came full circle and tilted forward. It began sliding down the mound and picked up speed. “Jump!” Ratchet and Qwark dodged to the sides, slipping between the hoverbikes as the drivers looked up again in surprise. Two were caught off guard and flung from their vehicles while the other two sped off.

Qwark smiled and jumped onto one of the vacant hoverbikes. “Now this is my forte!”

Ratchet jumped on the other and the two sped off after the retreating figures.

Up ahead, the two remaining bikers motioned towards each other and split up, circling around the trash heaps and coming up behind the Rangers. They flipped some switches on the handles of their bikes and activated a set of missiles. The weapons locked on to the opposing bikes’ signatures and fired.

“On your six!” Ratchet warned as he tried to swerve out of the way. He broke off from the original path and took a more winding path, but the missile managed the tight turns as easily as the Lombax had, if not more so. Looking behind him at the gaining projectile, he failed to notice one final mound in his path. Turning back around, he yelped and tried banking to his left. The side of the bike crashed into the trash heap. Ratchet jumped to the seat and shoved off just as the missile blew the bike to pieces, throwing burnt parts into Qwark’s path. Ratchet's head swam from the fall and he looked up from where he fell, spotting a familiar handle of a gadget sticking out of the base of a mound. Surprised and desperate, he gripped the pommel and pulled with all his might to dislodge it.

On the other side of the trash heap, the tip of Qwark’s bike caught the side of the previously blown up bike and it spun him around until he was driving backwards and facing the missile he was running from. Gasping, he looked down at the selection of buttons and switches on his vehicle. His hand wavered over each one of them, unsure if one would stop the missile or activate a self-destruct. Frowning, he decided on what to do. “When in doubt,” he slapped the console. “Push everyone’s buttons!” He did hit a self-destruct button and it began its countdown sequence shortly before he also hit an ejector button, which flung him from his seat. He catapulted forward and into one of the bikers trailing him, knocking both from the vehicle.

“He’s a madman!” the remaining biker barked and started driving away. As he came to a corner, the blunt side of an OmniWrench came in contact with his face, sprawling him across the dirt. The bike continued driving off without him and down the path.

Ratchet glowered over the dizzy villain, holding a rusty silver OmniWrench pulled from the scrapheap. He leaned forward with a snarl imprinted on his face. “Where’s that guy taking Clank?”

“Where’s the fly named Hank?” the biker’s head lolled back and forth as he tried to make sense of Ratchet’s words. “Nah, man. I didn’t leave a pie with Frank. He’s allergic to bossa nova.” Unfortunately, the Lombax wasn’t amused anymore and was on the verge of growling out his frustration until Qwark came up to the two with his own prisoner, who appeared to be in no better condition than the first.

“I don’t think we’ll get anything coherent out him for a while,” he grimaced, holding the biker up by the collar of his leather jacket. The criminal mumbled something about “Blargian frappe slugs” and gave a hard wheeze. Qwark dropped him as Ratchet’s captive began to snap out of his confusion.

“You two are Rangers,” he blinked, squinting against the sunlight bouncing off the metal surrounding them. “At least you are. I dunno about the green one. He’s just crazy, like a Predator Launcher on a sugar high.”

Qwark took offense, but Ratchet didn’t let him defend himself. “Well, there are three Rangers on this planet and I want to know where you pal is taking the third.” He lifted the open end of his weapon to the biker’s chin, leaning in close to stare him in the eyes.

The green hero chuckled at Ratchet’s attempt to frighten the biker. “You must be taking lessons from Cora on smack talk. Here, let me show you how a real dude does it.” He pushed the little Ranger aside and gripped the biker by the front of his jacket, lifting him to his feet and then dangling him slightly above the ground. “Listen up, bub. My hombre here lost his little pal and asked where your brother in crime took him. Now out with it, or it’ll get warmer than hot yoga in a Gasparian sauna for you.”

“Smooth,” Ratchet replied sarcastically.

Nonetheless, the biker found Qwark more of a threat, with his height and muscular build, comparatively to little Ratchet and gave his answer. “He’s taken him to the auction in Old Crate City!”

“You mean there’s enough room on this polluted planet to build a whole city?” Qwark asked in bewilderment.

“Well, compared to population size it’s not really—”

Qwark didn’t let the other finish talking and dropped him to the ground as Ratchet hurried off in one direction. The green hero jumped onto the remaining bike and drove off after him. He noticed something particularly useful in the basket on the back and grabbed it. “Here, cadet!” He tossed the object to Ratchet as he passed by.

Ratchet paused long enough to catch and admire the hoverboard. Besides a few dints and scratches in the yellow and chrome exterior, it was perfectly fine. The scavengers had found a treasure in all the trash surrounding them. Wasting no more time, he flipped a switch and jumped onto it, racing past Qwark and towards the black clouds of exhaust he had noticed while Qwark was questioning their prisoner. It could only be Old Crate City, he had surmised. An unsanitary yet thriving port in the Shadow Sector, where only the most prized stolen gadgets were sold.

“We’ve got to hurry!” he shouted over the wind battering against their faces. “If someone gets to Clank before we do, there’s no telling where he’ll end up from there.”

***

In an abandoned warehouse in the Bogon Galaxy, a starship descended into the building through the open roof. As the engines were shut off and an ex-military robot leapt from the cockpit, the roof shut over him and a group of people came out of the upper office to greet him. He ignored them at first, going around back and opening the trunk door.

A massive robot looked down from the railing and snarled. “Ivan!” He jumped over the railing and shook the whole building upon landing. The robot in question dropped his packaged and stumbled in his step at the minor quake.

The new arrival turned and looked the other up and down with an equally disdainful expression on his metallic face. “Billy,” he sniffed. “As loud as eva’.”

McCain roared in anger and ran forward, catching his fist in the other’s raised hand. “It’s Booz to you, Ivan!”

The other threw a fist at the assailant, whom caught it just as easily. “And it’s Shellshock to you!”

They glowered at each other for a while, the onlookers—Elaris, who had squirmed to a sitting position on the floor, the masked figure at the base of the stairs, and Ace with another quiet android observer up top—watched in anticipation for what the two hulking robots would do next.

Finally, McCain smiled and wrapped his arm around his companion and proceeded to give a sound noogie to the veteran’s head. “Shellshock! It’s good ta see ya again!”

Ace looked past the two friends and noticed Elaris frowning as she sat on the ground. Thrilled, he also leapt from the landing and down to the floor, startling the masked figure. “Where are your manners, Ivan? You haven’t introduced us to your guest.”

“Oi!” Shellshock broke free from McCain and sneered at the much smaller Cazares. “We’ve been through this. I go by Shellshock now!”

“And I’m in charge of Team Darkstar and will call you anything Ivana, comprende?” Ace barked back, telequipping a blaster to his hand.

Elaris gawked, but not at his boldness. “How’d you get your hands on the Arbiter?” She observed the large blaster, having only last seen it during testing, when Ratchet was trying out the new weapons package from Gadgetron.

“I know a guy,” Ace responded, smiling at her surprise. “But that’s not important. What you need to know as of this moment, Elaris, is that you are now under the custody of Team Darkstar. You’ve already met our scout, Ivan—”

“Shellshock!” the robot muttered ruefully.

“And you may have encountered the brawn of the team, McCain here, seeing that Brax put him in the Iron Hold not too long ago, which was not originally part of the plan,” he growled, shooting a warning look behind him. McCain shrugged, just happy to be out of the prison’s white walls of solitary confinement. Ace composed himself and continued, “Up there is second in command, Ben Zeno, better known as the Eviscerator, and I hope you never find out how he got that name,” he whispered with a fiendish grin. “Finally, our Technicians Expert,” he gestured behind him with a glint in his eyes. “Angela Cross.”

Elaris blinked, looking at the masked figure, shyly hiding in the shadows. “Wait, that’s a girl?”

Angela straightened up, offended, and stepped into the light, she snapped her fingers in a rather sassy, feminine way and tried to act tough in front of her colleagues. “Well, duh! You don’t expect any of these hot shots to have the patience for computers, do ya?” As if to prove her point, the two bulky robots began playfully roughhousing again.

“I think I’ve done a decent job,” Ace muttered, casting a cautionary glance her way. She avoided his gaze and studied the lining on the warehouse ceiling instead.

Elaris eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything, McCain had fallen onto a crate, accidentally breaking the container and the contents inside.

“Would you guys just--?” Ace rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his short muzzle. “Angela, why don’t you go walk the dogs?”

Angela glared at him from behind her mask and huffed in annoyance. Whistling at the two, she caught the muscles’ attention shortly before one punched the other and started the fight all over again. “You guys are as bad as Rotor! C’mon! Take it outside, Hogan!”

Zeno stared from his place on the landing, tapping the railing with robotic hands to a hypnotic tune. The two robots below heard it and gulped, tentatively looking up at the glowing yellow eyes of the slim insect-like android. Getting up, they hurried out a back loading door, hastily saying, “Yes, ma’am!” Angela followed them, but was in no rush. She looked back at Elaris and then pulled the hood further over her mask.

“How’d you convince her to do your dirty work?” Elaris blurted as she managed to stand up.

“I didn’t. My employer did,” Ace shook his head.

“You’re awfully talkative for a villain. Care to share more with me? Like where you plan to strike next or maybe even a backstory?”

Ace snarled and leaned forward. “If you had recognized me, then you wouldn’t need a backstory. But I guess you Rangers don’t look back, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” Elaris stood her ground, looking the Cazares up and down. “I’m sure we never had you in the Rangers.”

“I came way before you blowhards! I knew no one would remember me by now.”

“Well, a name might help,” Elaris hinted, playing down the seriousness of the situation.

Ace shook his head incredulously. Catching a look from the android, who shrugged as if to say, “She has a point,” the leader ground out his frustration. “Fine! You want a name? How about Ace Hardlight! Ring any bells?”

Elaris thought about it, seemed to remember something, and then grimaced, “Sorry. Nothing comes to mind. You weren’t that newscaster for Vox News, were you?”

“No!” Ace could hardly believe that she didn’t recognize him. “Ace Hardlight! Solana’s Vigilant Vigilante? I was the hero before you four, now five showed up. Then all of a sudden, you guys were the heroes and I was shoved aside like yesterday’s trash. This doesn’t mean anything to you?”

“Nope, and ‘Vigilant Vigilante’?" She chuckled to his annoyance. "You couldn’t come up with something better?”

“Do you know how hard it is to copyright a slogan these days? Everything’s been taken—what am I doing?” He turned his back to her and walked a little bit away to compose himself. “Eviscerator, take her to the safe house. I’ve gotta talk with the boss.”

Jumping up onto the railing, the second in command activated a set of light, sharp wings from a fused pack to his back and glided down.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to spill your plan to me? Isn’t that top priority on a villain’s list of what to do with a hostage?”

“You’ll hear it soon enough,” Ace spat as he left Elaris to struggle against the Eviscerator’s grip on her bound wrists.

***

Ratchet and Qwark skidded to a halt a little ways into Old Crate City. The crowds of people had become too much and they couldn’t get any further. Ratchet jumped off the hoverboard, considered it a little bit, and retracted it into his weapons locker, now at least accessible with a weak signal. He held onto the rusty OmniWrench, howerver as he stalked forward. “Could come in handy later,” he told himself.

Qwark, however, could not retract his new hoverbike to his weapons locker even if he tried. “Parting is such sweet sorrow,” he sniveled, running his hand over the sheen of the hood, choking on the well-trained tears of an actor. “It’s like I’m losing my baby all over again!”

“Well, make your goodbyes short,” Ratchet said and dashed into the crowd at the sound of a loudspeaker turning on. “Clank’s counting on us!”

“Eight-thousand bolts!” A voice boomed over the megaphone. “Do I hear eight-thousand bolts for this raritanium lined assist bot?”

Ratchet caught a glimpse of Clank on a crate, displayed for the crowd he weaved through. “Hey! That’s my friend you’re bartering away!”

The auctioneer, a lizard-like alien, similar to the crocodilian Rilgarians, but patched in metallic armor, squinted his organic and robot eyes over the crowd and caught sight of Ratchet’s waving hand. “Oh! I’m so sorry about that. If I had only know—ladies and gents! Attention!” He brought the loudspeaker to his steel mouth again. “It has occurred to me that this assist bot is stolen property. Since that is the case, I must cancel my last bid—and raise the bidding to ten-thousand bolts! C’mon everyone. How often does an assist bot come around that’s this high tech? Imagine the upgrades it can help perform! If you can’t imagine that, think of what its parts can be sold for separately! If you can’t imagine that, what on Umbris are you doing in the Shadow Sector for? Ten-thousand bolts! This is considerably cheap if you stop to realize that it’s a package deal!”

The Lombax’s fur bristled, afraid that he might lose his friend for good this time. He pushed his way through the crowd, knocking into people. “Clank—sorry—is not—‘scuse me—” He broke free of the crowd and stumbled out a few steps. “He’s not for sale!”

The Vullard’s eyes caught sight of the yellow alien cat and widened. “Ratchet?” He smiled and knelt down on the platform to look at him better. “Well, well! Look at you! Been a while, friend. Hey, have you gotten shorter since the last time we met?”

“Yeah, long time no see, Pawl,” the Lombax anxiously looked past him at his friend, sitting motionless and deactivated on the box. “Blah, blah, blah, I probably still owe you some money. Now let him go!”

Pawl’s expression didn’t change, but he shrugged his shoulders. “No can do. The auction is already underway. If you want him, then you’ll have to bid for him.”

“Ten-thousand!”

The auctioneer stood up at the sound of the first bid. “Ten-thousand bolts! Do I hear eleven-thousand?”

A motion rippled through the crowd to the opposite side the first bid came from. “Eleven-thousand!”

Pawl grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Eleven-thousand five-hundred anyone?”

“Eleven-thousand five-hundred!” There was a stir in the crowds again and a green glove rose above the masses and squeaked in a womanly voice, “Twelve-thousand bolts!”

The crowd gasped and some shook their heads. This bot was becoming too expensive for their tastes. Pawl, however, was thrilled. “Looks like we have some competition going on. Do I hear thirteen-thousand?”

While Qwark hustled back and forth through the crowd, bidding unreasonably high and competing with himself in multiple and equally unreasonably ridiculous voices, Ratchet caught on to his ruse and smiled to himself. Looking back at the Vullard, who was intently counting up the proposed bolts he would soon have in his pocket, Ratchet moved up the platform towards Clank while Pawl was still distracted. He did a quick survey of Clank’s mechanics and then powered him back on. The little robot’s green eyes flashed and he looked around.

“Ratchet, where are we?”

“Two-hundred-thousand bolts!” Pawl gasped, unable to believe his luck. He was too busy thinking about the number that he failed to realize that the crowd had overall dispersed and all that was left was the green hero mocking himself and arguing about “who” had more of a right to win the auction.

“I still haven’t bid,” Ratchet said from behind, startling the other. “How about for free?”

Pawl looked between him, Clank, and Qwark, who bashfully stopped his babbling, realizing his act was over. The Vullard understood and groaned, leaning forward on his knees. “Way to give a guy’s hopes up.”

“Well, when you try to sell a Galactic Ranger, what do you expect, Pawl?”

“ _This_ is your friend?” Clank disapproved, narrowing his eyes as he realized what had almost happened.

“ _That’s_ a Galactic Ranger?” Pawl’s voice was more surprised than Clank’s, but then laughed at the robot’s scowl. “No offense, little guy. But you don’t look like fighting material.” Qwark joined them at the base of the platform and Pawl looked at the trio one more time. He whistled and cocked his head at Ratchet. “So, it’s true! You did join the Rangers. You do know that the law here is ‘kill on sight’ for your kind, right?”

“We know,” Ratchet hissed. “So I think we’d all appreciate it if you kept quiet about this. But we need your help on something.”

The Vullard lost his smile and looked at the youth incredulously. “Seriously? You’d risk your hide, and your friends’ hides to ask for my help?”

“No one knows radio waves and electro-engineering like you,” Ratchet replied. “I planted a tracer on a starship and I lost the signal a while back. I was hoping that you could find it for us.”

Pawl scoffed and turned to walk away. “After costing me two-hundred-thousand bolts from that little trick of yours, fat chance I’ll ever help you again, kid.”

“But the galaxy could be in trouble,” Clank replied.

“So what?”

“He’s not gonna help us out of the generousness of his heart,” Ratchet placed his hands akimbo and started thinking. They had come so far and now their only hope was walking in the opposite direction from them. But Ratchet knew Pawl, after dealing with him several times in the past. He would want something in return. “I just don’t have that much bolts on me now.”

Pawl stopped walking and peered slightly over his shoulder, dull robot eye glinting in the sunlight. “I could be willing to take it in separate payments.”

The three Rangers grimaced. “I don’t think we’ll be able to pay that, let alone the water bill after our little escapades,” Qwark tried to secretively hint their predicament to Ratchet and Clank.

“I get it, I messed up!” Ratchet growled. “But if we can’t retrace that signal, all this will be even more hopeless than it already is.”

All three grew silent, wondering what they should do next. Returning home was not their best option, facing prison for a very long time. Qwark especially was not looking forward to it, having just been released.

“Wow, this is sad.” Pawl had turned around and stared ruefully at the three. “Rangers giving up hope. This is the force that protects the galaxy? More like a bunch of Helio-Grubs in fancy uniforms.” Shaking his head, he waved them closer. “Tell you what, I’ll settle for a trade.”

“What kind of trade?” Ratchet peered at him skeptically.

“A fair one on all accounts, but we shouldn’t strike a deal out here,” Pawl looked around at the remaining people in the streets. “Who knows what desperate conman is listening in.” He winked and silently gestured with his chin for them to follow him.

Looking at each other, the Rangers just shrugged and followed, having no other choice.

Pawl’s shop was an underground garage to a large apartment building. The front door was securely locked and then some with key locks and number pads. “Can never be too careful,” the Vullard explained over his shoulder as he pressed the final thumbprint scanner. The door creaked open and they all entered. With a couple claps, Pawl turned on the lights to reveal a much cleaner shop than they all had expected. “Excuse the mess,” he mildly teased as he wrapped up a few blueprints that had been lying on the tables. He paused as he observed one of the specs. “Actually, I need that one.”

Awestruck, the Rangers wandered the shop and admired the upgrades, gadgets, and more importantly, the weapons displayed in cases and shelves, hanging from the ceiling and stashed in crates under the table.

“Cora would freak if she were here,” Ratchet smirked as he rubbed his hand across the elongated barrel of an upgraded Plasma Striker.

“And then I’d duck and cover,” Qwark called from across the room, noting a sizable Bouncer.

Clank, however, did not seem pleased with much of what he saw. He agreed internally that the modifications and weapons were ingenious, but ultimately were illegal. He clopped over to Pawl’s side but could not see over the table at what he was looking at. “What sort of trade are you proposing, Mr. Shackleton?”

“Well, it ain’t you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Pawl leaned over his blueprints and tapped a few things into a tablet in his hand. “I’ve got a list of things that I need for a specific project of mine. Seeing that I now have connections in high places,” he absently nodded in reference towards them, “I think I might finally be able to finish it after all this time.”

“What is it?” Ratchet asked, ears perked.

Pawl pursed his lips and didn’t answer as he tapped in a few more items. “It’s research,” he eventually said after a long hum.

“Now, where have I heard that before?” Qwark tapped his chin.

“We’re not gonna help you do anything illegal, Pawl,” the Lombax stated firmly, sick of all the wrongs he had already done to get this far.

“Illegal!” Pawl chuckled and set his tablet down to look at the youth. “Me? Who do you think you’re talking to, friend?” Clicking his tongue, he slid the tablet across the table where Qwark picked it up and read through the list.

The green hero glanced through it and widened his eyes. “You’ve got to be joking! These are all high quality, exclusively Galactic Ranger gear from Gadgetron,” he slid the tablet back down the table and Ratchet picked it up out of curiosity. “And last I checked, you don’t have a club membership.”

“Have you ever watched those old holofilms, Captain?” Pawl rubbed a nonexistent spot on the table. “Where outlaws stir up trouble in an old town, forcing the sheriff to deputize unlikely people to help him?”

Nobody replied, having not seen that sort of film.

Pawl blew out a disappointed breath. “Nonetheless, I think I should be rewarded somehow for helping you. Ranger-for-the-day, how’s about it? I can have access to the materials I need and you can go catch that whositz with the whatchamacallits.” He swung his arms out wide and looked amongst the three of them innocently. “It’s all fair and square. Of course, I suppose I’ll have to tag along on your wild goose chase in order to ensure you don’t double-cross me.”

“I do not think we can give you such sensitive material without first knowing what it is you are planning to use them for,” Clank fixed the black market dealer with a gaze of contempt. He turned his back to the dealer and looked towards Ratchet. “Are you sure there is no one else capable of retrieving the lost signal?”

Ratchet was about to reply, but Pawl suddenly moved towards them. “Well, that ain’t good,” he said, kneeling behind Clank. “Hold still, your villainy is showing.”

“Begging your pardon?” Clank felt a few sparks between his shoulders and then the release of some weight. Turning around, Clank observed that Pawl held in his hand the disruptor that had been placed on him back at the Iron Hold II.

“What is that?” Ratchet bent forward and snatched it up.

“A simple disruptor used at bot prisons to prevent any minor nuclear skirmish from happening,” Pawl scratched his metal temple, under his goggles. “But it also is a tracker. Wherever you three ran from knows where you’re at. And,” taking a Combustor from the shelf, Pawl placed the device on the table and blasted it to smithereens, “heard our whole conversation.”

“Oh my,” Clank suddenly remembered what Shiv Helix had said back at the prison, about how the guards always somehow knew when someone had an escape plan.

“But no one would fly straight into the Shadow Sector,” Qwark leaned over the table, worried despite his own words. “Not unless they’re stupid.”

“Or desperate,” Ratchet added, thinking about their own motives. This could cause some trouble for them, he could tell, but they hadn’t found the location of the missing tracker so their destination was still unknown to whoever might have been listening in on them. He looked at his friends, wondering if they should keep going. No one said anything edgewise, so he turned back to Pawl. “If we ‘deputize’ you, will you help us?”

“I’d be delighted,” the rogue replied too politely. “I’ll come along for insurance policies, but don’t expect me to do much. Truly, I’m a pacifist.”

“So long as you don’t slow us down, amigo,” Qwark frowned.

The Vullard shrugged and moved over to a rolling desk chair and sat in it. He scooted over to the computer at his desk and opened up a few programs waiting for Ratchet to give the green light on the plan.

Ratchet looked at Qwark above him, who seemed alright with the idea, and then down at Clank at his elbow, who was definitely giving him a look of disapproval. “Let’s talk it over one more time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, as promised, now I can tell you who McCain turned out to be: The Reactor?! Yeah, it just sort of happened (don't you just love it when a story decides to write itself?) And he's part of Team Darkstar--now! Before old fans start getting all defensive over their childhood games, I'd like to state that, yes, I'm fully aware that Team Darkstar was actually the name of Ratchet's team in DreadZone, but it sounded more appropriate for a group of shadowy villains, don't you think? And "The Exterminators" has been a team name for just about every television show villain out there that I thought it would be, ironically, too cliche to keep using it. So, there's my brief reasonings and I stand by them. Don't hate me for 'em.  
> Also, I should note that I gave the Eviscerator a name. He's a mute and thus can't tell people his name or what his backstory is, which is probably why Insomniac didn't name him. But I love it when I get the chance to be creative and toy with a blank space left by the creators. Ben Zeno; I tried to make it a joke on benzine, the chemical found in gasoline. Not that I expect people to laugh at gas (at least of this kind :3) but just a little clever, overdone joke to myself. (And I had too much time on my hands when I first wrote this.)  
> So, I should probably say that Team Darkstar's members are all created by Insomniac (Eviscerator, "Reactor", Ivan (Shellshock), and Ace Hardlight). However, Angela was not originally part of the team. She came in two games before Deadlocked. Creative license.  
> Oh! And though Catacrom IV was in the games, Old Crate City wasn't. I wanted to recreate Catacrom IV for reimagining purposes and I latched on to the idea of a black market city/trading post. Through some more too-much-time-on-my-hands research, I found out about Old Car City in Georgia. That place just made me think, "This is what I want! This is what Catacrom IV should look like!" With a few more head-desk moments of trying to refine the idea, it hit me and thus an Original Setting was born.  
> Finally *fanfare* introducing Pawl Shackleton! You don't get to see too much of him in this chapter, but I hope you get to like him over the course of the adventure. I don't make OCs that often, but this guy I really hope leaves an impression.
> 
> Alright, but that's enough now. See ya Wednesday!


	10. Chapter 10

“Here are the recordings, ma’am,” the desk clerk of the Iron Hold II said as he walked to his desk. Captain Phyronix was waiting impatiently, pacing the room. Upon hearing the good news, she stopped moving and began tapping her foot as the robot inserted the drive to the desktop computer painfully slow and opened the file.

She blew a strand of her burnette hair out of her face, then tucked it behind her headband when it fell in front of her pinched face again. “No offense, but what took you so long?”

The clerk looked up blearily at her in only a way a robot could and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just know I’m gonna lose my job after what’s happened lately. Three jailbreaks and massive reconstruction all in a row. I just know I’m gonna get blamed for this.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Sasha sighed, trying to suppress her irritation. “Maybe, by helping me out, _quickly_ , you'll be credited for helping reprimand your escaped convicts.”

“You think so?” The clerk looked up at her hopefully, forgetting to look through the computer files.

Sasha raised an eyebrow and tapped her fingers on the desk. “Yes! But only if you’re quick about it!”

The robot’s fingers dashed across the keyboard, motivated more through fright of the Captain than the thought of a promotion. “Shall I play it from the beginning?”

“No time for that, I want something specific,” the Cazares moved around the desk and looked over his shoulder. “There, at that time.”

The audio began playing.

“And where are we going?” Clank's voice buzzed through the speakers.

“First, to find a ship, then I need to speak with an old acquaintance about retrieving our masked stranger’s signal again.”

The clerk paused the recording. The Captain thought about what was heard and was troubled by something. “So there’s another party mixed up with this.” She leaned over the keyboard and started skimming the audio recordings, watching the tracking beacon move across the virtual map of Solana with each tap.

“Shadow Sector…Catacrom IV…soliloquy on karma…two-hundred-thousand bolts,” the recording was coming to its most recent event and Sasha released the keyboard. Qwark’s booming voice came first. “You’ve got to be joking! These are all high quality, exclusively Galactic Ranger gear from Gadgetron, and last I checked, you don’t have a club membership.”

Sasha blinked, but skipped ahead some.

“Nonetheless,” a new voice came. She guessed that it was this ‘friend’ they had mentioned earlier. “I think I should be rewarded somehow for helping you. Ranger-for-the-day, how’s about it? I can have access to the materials I need and you can go catch that whositz with the whatchamacallits. It’s all fair and square...”

The audio was overtaken by static for a brief moment. Sasha guessed that it had to do with the distance between receivers. “I do not think we can give you such sensitive material without first knowing what it is you are planning to use them for,” Clank retorted.

The Captain squinted and silently wondered about this statement. Whatever this deal was that the rogues were making, it gave her a bad feeling.

“Well, that ain’t good,” the ‘friend’ said, voice getting louder as it got closer to the tracker. “Hold still, your villainy is showing.”

“Begging your pardon?”

The transmission stopped and the beacon flashed steadily at its last location. The Captain tapped at the location on the holo-map. “Catacrom IV?”

“Deep in the Shadow Sector, I’m afraid, ma’am," the clerk rattled his bolts at the mention of it, "No Ranger has gone there and ever come back.” He tapped his fingers together, worried that he might actually lose his job after all.

Sasha leaned back as she thought, brown tail twitching. “They’ll have to leave eventually.” She didn’t wait any longer and headed for the door, focused on the forming plan she had coming together.

Outside, Sasha jumped into her starship and flew through the rain of planet Rilgar and out into space. She upgraded her starcharts and pulled up a map of the known areas of the Shadow Sector. There wasn't much, but Catacrom IV was labeled and she set her destination. Hopeful, she dashed across the galaxy in order to stop the turncoats from escaping her again.

*

The group of heroes were gradually becoming more anxious to make some move to further their plan along. However, they could not come to terms on whether or not they could allow the criminal dealer to have access to their technology.

Clank was completely against it, nigh on demanding that they turn around and hope that the Rangers would listen to them after all that had happened. Ratchet and Qwark, however, were not keen on the idea of spending the next several decades in prison for all the laws that they broke. While Pawl patiently waited for their approval, tinkering with a few gadgets from his shelves, across the room the three outcast Rangers argued quietly with one another.

“I simply will not comply on these vague terms Mr. Shackleton has set,” Clank narrowed his flashing green eyes. They had begun to glow brighter than usual. “He has not shown himself to be a trustworthy ally or a decent model of a law-abiding citizen. Why reward him for his thievishness?”

“We’re not rewarding him for anything,” Ratchet pointed out.

“Well, not yet,” Qwark interjected.

“Besides,” the Lombax continued positively, absently elbowing Qwark in the ribs, “we’d be rewarding him for heroism, not for doing anything illegal.”

“But this sort of compensation he is demanding for will be used for some device that you do not know if its intended purposes are for good or criminal intent.”

“You tell ‘im, Clank!”

Ratchet frowned, furrowing his brow and throwing his ears pointedly back. He turned on Private Qwark. “Just whose side are you on here?”

Qwark widened his eyes and stuck out his gigantic chin, shaking his head faintly. “I’m on the side that gets things done, clearing our names and keeping the galaxy safe from potential turmoil,” he waved his hands around in frustration. “Why are we arguing when we could be doing some serious good-guy stuff?”

“Even if that means handing ourselves in?” Ratchet probed, pointing up at him.

Clank found some sense in what Qwark was saying and processed it through his servos. Coming to a decision, he jumped off of the crate he was sitting on and began walking towards the door.

Ratchet was slightly startled and wrenched around to watch the little robot storm out, something he hadn’t seen him do before. “Where are you going?”

Clank paused at the door and turned around. Even Pawl had looked up from his work, curious at the scene the Rangers were making. The littlest Ranger looked firmly in his friend’s eyes and stated, “I will have no more part in doing what I know to be wrong.”

“But, Clank—?”

He interrupted Ratchet as the Lombax rose from his seat. “I am going to find a way to return to Rilgar and then hand myself over to the authorities while you continue in this senseless task you have mounded up before you. Nothing will be accomplished if I remain here to stop you.” Ratchet’s hurt face wasn’t new to the little robot, having been there to comfort him during his mistakes before, but this time Clank would not comfort him one bit as he turned around and walked out the door. Though it took some doing to make himself leave.

The black market dealer was impressed. He rubbed the tip of his metallic beard and smiled. “I was about to say that all your not-so-quiet yammering over there had come to an impasse and to just give up,” he said, still smiling even as Ratchet turned his frustrated gaze on him. “But, your friend there just did you a solid.”

The Lombax ignored him and looked back at the open doorway. “Clank’s gonna get himself into trouble out there. How’s he going to find a ship off this planet? The scavengers will find him long before then.” The fear that had consumed him before when the thug had kidnapped his friend came back again and he quickly made his way to the door.

The door slid shut before him, making him jump back. Ratchet wheeled around and snarled at the Vullard. Pawl had pressed a button on his desk keyboard, the mirth still plastered on his thin, semi-organic face. “I wouldn’t waste this opportunity,” his voice rumbled in warning, his dull red robot eye glinting. “Either you go make up with your friend and take the next magical, happy-time bus of friendship to the Iron Pen," he paused to chuckle at his own joke, "or you can give me the codes to your tracker and we can be on our way."

Ratchet looked at the black market dealer, seeing the shadiness of his selfish motives that Clank warned him about, and then looked out the barred window at the lone retreating robot down the dirty streets of Old Crate City.

"Finish what you started, Ratchet," Pawl sighed. "That's the best advice I can give."

Ratchet clenched and un-clenched his fists, too frustrated to think straight. He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He'd have to apologize later. “Fire up your computer, Pawl. We haven’t got much time.”

***

“Fizzwidget!” Ace barged into the office across the Bogon Galaxy, now lit up and windows drawn. The stout, middle-aged man sitting at the desk jumped from his seat and gave a short yelp. Then, recognizing Ace, straightened his blue suit.

“Oh, it’s you, it’s—you!” He quickly went to the windows, shut them, and turned off the lights over his desk, returning the room to its former gloom. But instead of retreating behind his desk, he ran to the door and peeked outside. “How did you get up here without being seen? It’s business hours!”

“I walked through the lobby and up the elevator. Honestly, they aren’t going to stop a regular to MegaCorp from coming to pick up his next shipment,” Ace shrugged, but then his eyes flashed their earlier annoyance. “I came to speak to you about that Technicians Expert you hired.”

“Oh, yes, Angela. Lovely girl, a little forgetful at times, but she’s an invaluable asset to your team.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, Abercrombie,” Ace grabbed the businessman by the collar, but then thought better of it and straightened the crumbled neckline. “She’s too good for this line of work. She tried to interfere with the plan.”

Mr. Fizzwidget blinked in surprise and then frowned, stroking his bushy white mustache. “I was hoping she wouldn’t learn about what all her work was for.”

“Regardless, she’s close to ruining everything,” Ace flipped the lights on, tired of squinting in the din.

Abercrombie flinched and turned most of the lights off again. “What do you mean? I know she’s a klutz and all, but how much damage could she possibly do?”

Ace growled and flipped them on again, leering down at his boss. “I mean she deliberately tried to warn the Rangers against us.”

The CEO jumped again and moved to turn the lights off, as if the dark would keep their conversation securely between the two of them. Ace, however, put his hand over the switch. Casting him a skeptical look, Abercrombie tugged at the corners of his suit and walked back to his desk. Grabbing a stylus from a cup, he tapped it on the polished desktop. “I can’t risk this getting out,” he rubbed his brow with the back of his hand and looked up hopefully at his hired mercenary. “Is there any way to back out of this?”

“You don’t need to worry too much about that,” Ace crossed his arms and stared at him from across the room. “She only blabbed to the fanboy, Ratchet. Lucky for us, she told him to not get the other Rangers involved, probably hoping that we wouldn’t catch on to her. However, he’s broken the warbot out of prison and that green goof tagged along with them on their escape.” Ace fished something out of his pocket. “They’re on their way to Bogon.” He tossed Ratchet’s tracking device onto the desk. The device popped open and springs and cogs went everywhere, broken.

Abercrombie’s eyebrows furrowed together as he poked the broken gadget with his stylus, intrigued with the design. “Similar structure to Angela’s work,” he muttered, placing a few cogs back into their slots. “But there’s something unique about the layout.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Ace continued, though he didn’t appear to care what the CEO of MegaCorp thought, “but I’ve already put in motion a way to replace her.”

This snapped the portly inventor out of his thoughts. “Replace her? Who could replace Ms. Cross? She’s the brightest in Bogon, I told you that when we first met.”

“She may be smart in Bogon, but Solana has always been one step ahead of us, you know, with Gadgetron’s innovativeness and all,” the Cazares sneered, making his boss frustrated, thinking about Lumos and his booming business. “Over there, they have another dame behind the brains of the operation. My team and I thought it would be a good idea to test her technical abilities on our own plan, now that Angela’s shown her opinion on the matter, so we have Elaris on loan.”

“You kidnapped Elaris?” Mr. Fizzwidget nearly fell out of his chair. “This is getting out of hand! All I wanted you to do was sabotage Gadgetron’s weapons testing. If he wants to steal my weapon specs for his new package, then he’ll have to deal with retaliation! But I don’t know about this, Ace.”

“Relax,” the other sighed, scratching his head through his blonde hair. “No one knows where she is, not even she knows! Her friends think she’s gone on a one-way trip through the Rift Inducer and as far as she knows, she’s not in Solana anymore.”

Mr. Fizzwidget’s mustache twitched. “I’ve had about enough of you changing the plan on me, Hardlight.”

“That’s why I came over today, to ask if you’d like Elaris to program something even Angela failed at.”

“What’s that?”

The Cazares moved forward and leaned over the desk, making Abercrombie shrink back some. “What if that virus of ours could think on its own?” His boss considered it while he sat slumped in his chair, but he needed more conviction in the idea. His pale pudgy face only hid some of his displeasure behind his bushy white mustache. Ace continued, “If it could just work like any other robot and attack the Rangers’ weapons without having someone behind the controls, I could better handle my team and take care of that runt on his way over here.”

“But a virus with AI? It could move on from the weapons and start a whole epidemic. This could be risky.”

“Like you haven’t taken enough risks already?” Ace smirked. Abercrombie didn’t seem sold on the plan just yet, so the mercenary tried again. “If that ragtag team of Rangers make it over here, they will find Angela and trace all this back to you. I have to have my hands free so I can protect you from being exposed for being a fraud.”

“I am not the fraud!” the CEO barked, standing up and making Ace reel back this time. “It’s that Wendall Lumos! He stole my new weapon specs and is plunging MegaCorp into bankruptcy.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

Mr. Fizzwidget’s antennae twitched. “W-what have you heard?”

Ace knew he had found his leverage on the situation now. Smiling, he crossed his arms again. “A certain person told me that these prized weapon specs that you miraculously invented in the past few months are actually a gift. An expensive gift from the Shadow Sector." He frowned, pointed ears drooping slightly to the sides, "And if that’s not clear enough for you to understand, Angela told me that you bought illegal blueprints from the black market to save your little business.”

“How did she…?” Abercrombie’s shoulders slumped and he sat heavily in his office chair. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Desperate times,” Ace continued, “call for even more desperate measures.”

The businessman stared at his desk and the gadgets on them. His eyes fell on Ratchet’s tracking device. Fizzwidget’s mustache twitched again and he frowned angrily. “And this virus will be able to keep the Rangers busy?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Ace’s voice oozed certainty.

***

Sasha’s starship sat waiting in the asteroid belt on the edge of the Shadow Sector, scanning the area for any trace of Ratchet, Clank, or Qwark. So far, the computers were telling her that three lifeforms that matched their descriptions were still on Catacrom IV and the Captain didn’t want to risk going down there just for them to somehow slip past her. She’d rather wait for them to come to her.

But it was boring sitting in her starship and waiting for someone to do something. Minutes passed by and turned into hours until she began to relax. She was busy playing a virtual game on her dashboard when the speakers announced that she had received a message. Jumping, her fur all on end, she let out a gasp and smoothed back her hair back under her headband before opening the message.

“…Clank?” Her brows shot upward as she proceeded to open up the message. They were coordinates to his position and a request to be picked up. “No way you’re just surrendering after all this.” She crossed her arms. “This has to be a trick to get me to land and let them all sneak past.” She leaned back in the chair and let a moment pass.

Another message popped up on her screen. “Our ship has crashed and we have gone our separate ways. There is no other means of escape.”

Convenient, but almost too convenient. She frowned and looked out the window at the passing debris in the asteroid belt. She chewed on her lip, risking another minute to think about it.

The screen announced another message but she didn’t bother looking at it. “Alright already!” She kicked her starship into gear and swooped down at the planet, keeping a sharp eye out for any patrols, but it was strangely quiet. She managed to slip through the atmosphere of the junkyard planet without a problem. As she neared her destination, however, she slowed down, senses piqued in case of sabotage. It was in the middle of nowhere, mounds of metal trash every which way she looked. “If you try to steal my ship and abandon me here, Ratchet, I swear I’ll—!”

She stopped mid-promise of pain to the Lombax and saw a large hunk of green metal lying on the ground next to one of the piles next to the river. Clank was sitting patiently next to it, looking up expectantly as she landed by the river. She opened the hatch and jumped out, Lancer equipped, but she wasn’t as cautious now that she looked around. Clank was all alone. “You weren’t kidding when you said the ship crashed.”

“Why would I consider joking about something so serious?” Clank cocked his head to the side and got up to meet her. “I am glad that you answered my messages so quickly.”

She looked around the area to make sure they were alone and became strangely disappointed when she realized that they were. “So, where’ve your pals wandered off to?”

“I do not know,” Clank narrowed his eyes, which flashed green in annoyance, something she hadn’t expected from the usually docile robot. “But I could not continue with them on this search for reconciliation.”

Sasha gave him a wry look, gesturing at him with her blaster as she spoke, “Wait. I thought they were trying to clear your name? Why would they leave you behind?”

“I am certain that they would not have done so if I had not already volunteered to leave. I only want justice to perform, as it should, through the law. I believe that I am more of a hindrance to them than an ally in this instance.” The little robot gave his testament firmly, though wavered nearing the end and let out a mechanical sigh.

Sasha never had to arrest anyone so willing to be arrested, nor one who seemed so down on his luck. “Well, if you’re turning yourself in,” she reached behind her and grabbed the handcuffs, realizing that they were too big for Clank anyway. She awkwardly put them away. “I, uh, suggest you come along quietly. Anything you say and do can be used against you in the court of—Kerchu sweat!”

“Pardon me?” Clank did not understand the reference.

“No, no.” Sasha hit the palm of her hand to her forehead and began to pace back and forth. “If I take you in, by the time I get back, the others will have found a way off of this trash heap.”

“They may be doing just that at this very moment,” Clank understood the problem and tapped his chin. “Mr. Shackleton should have found the coordinates by now.”

“I take it you don’t know where they’re headed to?”

“I am afraid I left before they could decide to make the deal with him and, seeing as they did not follow me, the deal must have been settled on.” He suddenly perked up and turned towards the Captain. “If I may be so bold, perhaps we may go after them all the same?”

“You and me? After all of them?” Sasha recalled Cora’s words of warning and considered her chances against two trained Rangers and a black market specialist. She hated to admit it, so she didn’t, but it sounded like too much for her to go it alone. “It would be impossible for the Starship Phoenix to break through the border without getting spotted and there’s no telling which side of the sector your friends will decide to leave from.” She looked down at Clank and frowned. “But how will I know for sure that you won’t go berserk and attack me like you did Brax?”

“Ratchet has reasons to believe that the event with Brax was not my doing and even though my memories are incomplete, the court session did not in fact prove that I was responsible for that situation.”

“So I’m taking a huge risk in the off-chance that I will somehow manage to bring all four of you back to Aleero City?”

Clank grimaced in only a way a robot can. “The odds of failure are high. But know that I do not intend to bring you or anyone to harm.”

“Call me comforted,” she replied sarcastically, retracting her Lancer and heading back towards her ship. “We better get moving then.”

*

In a beat up cargo-starship, Ratchet sat uncomfortably in the back, surrounded by boxes and forced to grit his teeth every time the ship made a groan, unable to make repairs or adjust the flight tactic. Qwark still blamed Ratchet’s poor driving skills for the wreck of his starship and Pawl didn’t want to take any chances with this new information.

“Sorry, friend,” he called from the pilot’s seat. “But this is the only starship I own and that means I get to fly it.”

Ratchet crossed his arms and remained quiet for some time as they flew the rickety ship through Catacrom IV’s atmosphere and into the dark matter of space. He could hear gears, pipes, and circuits just ready to bust at any wrong jerk of the vehicle. It was giving him a headache to think about what could happen as they flew along. Cabin fire, loss of power, losing the engine, among other tense situations came to mind with each groan of the hidden mechanisms. He had been in one too many crashes and did not care to add another to the long list.

Pawl noticed his irritated silence and grinned to himself. With a glance between his two passengers, he sped up the cargo-starship and lurched it from side to side. They yelped as the pilot recklessly flew through the asteroid belt and weaved out and back in again. Qwark was safely strapped into the passenger’s seat, though he tightened the seatbelts as Pawl picked up speed. Ratchet, however, was tossed back and forth in the trunk, dodging empty crates and a tool kit.

“C’mon, Rangers!” Pawl laughed as he brought the ship to a less frantic flight pattern. “I thought you liked the rush of danger!”

“Only when it’s called for,” Ratchet grunted as he tossed a few crates away from him and sitting back up again.

“You can’t expect danger all the time,” Pawl scoffed and turned back to looking out the cockpit window. “That’s why it’s dangerous.”

“But you don’t have to willingly walk into it every chance you get,” Qwark gasped as he struggled to release the tension in his seatbelt.

“Whatever,” the Vullard tapped a tune with his metal and organic fingers. “You guys are no fun.”

Ratchet wobbled to his feet and leaned against the back door. He gazed out the window and saw a familiar blue ship came flying through the asteroid belt and begin to follow them. “Oh no,” he moaned, recognizing the Ranger blue of the Captain’s starship. “We’ve got company!”

“It’s the kid-Captain,” Qwark gasped. “Is there any way to outrun her?”

“What do you think this is? A Class S starship? There’s not enough battery power to pump through the engine to get the speed over fifty kilocubits an hour. We’ll just have to outmaneuver her.”

“Outmaneuver the actual Class S starship?” Ratchet grabbed the tool kit and looked for a loose panel in the back of the cargo-starship. He pulled back on the floor panels and exposed the mechanisms that had been banging around and driving him mad. Now that the trapdoor was open, the noise was tremendously loud.

“Oi! What are you doing back there?” Pawl snapped.

“Giving you the boost you need,” Ratchet’s mechanic instincts kicked in and he began splicing and crossing wires. The speed increased a little at a time. He exposed a large canister hidden beneath the wires. He was startled for a moment when he recognized the material, but then he quickly found an ionic-converter in the mess and went to swap that wire for all the others he had just done. He cut the wires and the engine stopped altogether.

“Ratchet!” both Pawl and Qwark shouted.

When the Lombax connected the new wire, the power turned back on again, and they sped off faster than before. Both pilot and passenger were thrown back into their seats, and Ratchet held on to the trapdoor.

*

Sasha and Clank gaped from inside the Captain’s starship as the rusty cargo-starship flew away faster than it should have. “What?” Sasha snapped out of her surprise and chased after it.

Clank pondered the sudden speed of the retreating vehicle a bit and decided to scan it for more answers. Tapping a few commands into the dashboard computer, he found the reason. “It appears that the ship has been modified with a nitroglycerin fuel source.”

“But that stuff’s explosive!” Sasha swerved to the side, keeping a little distance between them now that she knew. “Why would he purposely use a nitro-battery?”

*

“I don’t own a nitro-battery!” Pawl yelped, turning around to look at the glowing canister underneath. “That’s definitely not mine.”

Ratchet crawled his way to the front and grabbed the headrest of both seats. “Then what’s it doing in your ship?”

“How should I know? As far as I’m concerned, it’s our ticket out of here and straight into Bogon!”

Ratchet felt himself catch his breath at the thought. The Bogon Galaxy. They were really on their way to another galaxy. This would be his first time out of Solana. Even though they were going into unknown territory, he couldn’t contain his excitement. “Have you been there before?”

Pawl shrugged as much as he could with the G-force pressed against them. “It’s nothing spectacular. Mostly industrial plants run by MegaCorp. You’ll see it for yourself soon enough.” The cargo-starship gave a jolt and a loud bang. “If we don’t crash first!”

***

Smelt was carrying an armful of supplies from the glittering mounds of Catacrom IV. He had things from broken blaster with ducktaped barrels to PVC pipes “in case of emergency” he had told his brother.

“Alright, Flux,” he grunted, dropping the supplies in the clearing before a garage he and his brother had broken into before their incarseration. “Rev up that engine. Ace has been kept waiting long enough, doncha think?” He didn’t expect a reply and looked proudly over the junk he had scavenged and stolen from the people of Old Crate City. “I think we’ve got all we need.”

“Except for one thing,” Flux chuckled nervously, rubbing his hands together.

Smelt looked confusedly from his brother to the empty garage. Realization dawned on him and he drooped. “And the nitro-battery?”

“Installed months ago.”

Both bots sighed mechanically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...there you have it...  
> A couple things to note:  
> First, yup, I took a risky twist with the heroes split up and pitted against each other, but you'll see how it turns out soon enough.  
> Second, the appearance of Abercrombie Fizzwidget. I bet some of you were wondering how he ended up on the character tags. Well, now you know, and I hope you're intrigued by the predicament he's found himself in.
> 
> TV Announcer Voice: Will Abercrombie find his way out of the hole he's dug himself into? Will Ratchet and the gang get away in time without blowing up, or will Sasha and Clank catch up to them? What new threats await our heroes in Bogon?  
> Tune in this Saturday and...aw! *turns device off*


	11. Chapter 11

(…a few hours earlier)

  


Elaris walked around the tight closet space, observing the pins on the wall, the crowded computer desk, and the lone lamp hanging above her head. “And I thought my previous station was small,” she put her hands on her hips and turned towards the door, banging on it with her fist. “Hello? Anybody going to tell me why I’m here? Hello?”

“That’s not how all this works,” a voice came from the computer, making Elaris shout and wheel around to face it. Ace was cleaning his teeth in the camera before sitting back in a chair on the other side of the screen. “See, in show business, you don’t call them, they call you. It works much the same way here.”

“Ace! I demand some answers! I’ve had it with you and your gang, dragging me all across the cosmos just to stuff me in some closet!”

“There’s a reason for all of this, just bear with me,” Ace didn’t really seem to care as he folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. “I just wanted to place you in a better situation.”

“This isn’t better by any account,” the Ranger narrowed her eyes at him.

He shrugged, “For me it is. I almost went mad in there, but now I have you to replace me.”

“You can’t keep me in here! What about food and water!”

“That’s where our new recruits come in handy,” he raised a cocky eyebrow and grinned mischievously. “On the other side of that door are two well-trained robots, so dastardly that they were thrown into the Iron Hold _twice_.” Little did she know that the two were Smelt and Flux, whose reputations were greatly exaggerated. “They can escort you to other facilities within the building. But don’t bother escaping,” he slid his shades onto his face to obscure his gleaming green eyes. “I have the whole building monitored. One wrong move, one step towards the wrong door, and I’ll activate the security system. Oh! Speaking of which, I have a job for you.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’d do anything for you,” Elaris took her seat in the office chair and spun it around so he couldn’t see her on the screen. But then she noticed a security camera on the wall she was facing and frowned. A holographic screen popped up in front of the bulletin board and Ace sneered at her.

“Can’t we skip the hassle of giving you initiative and go straight to my order?”

“Sorry, but we’re closed right now. Come back tomorrow—or not at all!”

“Alright, but, until then, allow me to put on the sports channel for you.” The hologram disappeared and then brought up a radar frequency.

“What’s that?” Elaris asked, peering at the two moving dots across the screen.

“Oh? Well, those are your friends, on their way here.” A quick holo-schematic displayed Ratchet, Qwark, and Pawl in one blip and Sasha and Clank in the other. “Not to rescue you, of course. No one knows you’re missing.”

Elaris spun in her office chair and faced the grinning Cazares on the computer screen. “That’s impossible. Brax and Cora will wonder where I am. I was just talking with them earlier.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing, when we kidnapped you, we covered our trails. We can make someone disappear,” he snapped his fingers, “without a trace. Unless we want to lead them in another direction. Your Galactic Losers are probably trying to search a pocket dimension for you, but they’ll never find you there.”

“Pocket dimension…the Rift Inducer? How would you know about that?” She bolted to her feet. The weapons package from Gadgetron had been top secret, not yet announced to the public until they could work out the kinks in them since Brax’s accident. The blasters had initially seemed alright, but accidents were still happening in the training field without any reason that Elaris could find. But Ace was giving her a crucial clue. She took a wild guess and blurted, “You’ve been the one sabotaging the weapons!”

Ace pressed a button in his computer keyboard and bells rang out. “Correct! Well played, Elaris! And I’m not the least bit surprised that you figured it out.”

“How couldn’t I? You practically told me yourself.”

“Yes! Now you’re catching on,” Ace laughed, sitting upright again and lifting his shades, revealing just how much pleasure he was taking in their game. “I only tell you what you need to know. Like how I know where your friends are but they haven’t got a clue where I am. Their lives are in the balance, Elaris. What are you going to do?”

The Ranger sunk in her chair some and turned to look at the radar again. She would have called it a bluff, except for a few details that didn’t add up. For starters, who was this “Pawl” that Ratchet and Qwark were riding with? Secondly, why was Clank with Sasha? It would have been a foolish move to put those two together, but Hardlight didn’t seem like someone who would make such a simple mistake.

They could be in danger if she didn’t comply with his demands. “What is it you want me to do?” she muttered, defeated.

Ace smiled triumphantly. “I’ve got a project for you to work on, I’m sending the prototype and list of upgrades to you now. We want it done within twenty-four hours.” She was about to protest, but he interrupted her, “Trust me, you won’t have to do much, Angela has the prototype made pretty solidly, but you’ll do just enough to make it a whole new toy to play with. Do this for us and your friends will stay alive, for now. I’ll be monitoring your progress--”

Elaris had been skimming through the list of demands and the prepared code before her. She implemented a few new lines of code and then folded her hands in front of her, “Done.” Looking away, disinterested in anything else Ace had to say, she returned her gaze to the radar.

Ace blinked and leaned forward, mouth opening slightly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m done.”

“Lemme see that,” the Cazares grumbled. His fingers typed rapidly on his keyboard and he pulled up the new program on his own screen, skimming through the added strings. He scratched his head, the code too advanced for him, but it looked as if it had the potential do what he wanted. “If this works, I’ll leave your buddies under the red dots alone. But if not,” he squirmed in his chair, trying to regain his evil composure after being shocked out of it, “I get to play target practice.”

Elaris bit her lip and nodded. “But what are you planning to do with this? This sort of device could cause massive panic if unleashed in a public space.”

“Let me do the worrying and I’ll get back to you after I deliver the package.”

He turned off the comlink and left Elaris siting alone in the small office with only a pulled up game of Solitaire on the computer screen and the two blips on the hologram to keep her busy.

***

Busy at the Hall of Heroes, back in the Solana Galaxy, Cora had every trooper out running laps or placed on kitchen duty in the cafeteria. “This place will be back in shape in no time,” she beamed to Brax as she watched everyone working hard. “The Captain may have been chosen because of her leadership skills, but the only thing I saw her leading was the Galactic Rangers into a false sense of security.”

“But, uh,” Brax scratched his head as he saw how busy everyone was. “Isn’t this a bit much? You know you’re only temporarily Captain until she gets back.”

“Enough is never enough, Brax!” She crossed her arms and stared hard at the troopers jogging through the gate and around the building. “First you’re caught off guard and overcome by a little robot. And not just any robot, but a little one. One that normally wouldn’t hurt a fly. Plus, you saw what happened to Elaris. We’ve got two whole teams searching that--wherever it is for her. We’re out of shape!”

“I guess,” the warrior shuffled a bit on his cast.

“You’re just jealous that you’re not out jogging with them,” the young woman teased.

Brax scoffed and looked down at her. “Anything beats sitting on a couch and watching TV marathons all day.”

“C’mon, I’ve got something you can do.” Cora began walking back inside the building.

“Like what? I still can’t walk without my crutch!”

“But nothing’s keeping your arms from doing anything.” Cora cast a smile over her shoulder as he followed her inside, grumbling about not really wanting to work right now. “C’mon, you can sit in a desk chair and roll across the floor while you lift these crates I need moving. Just like in those sitcoms you’ve been watching.”

“You’re ruthless. You know that, right?” He tried to frown, but he couldn’t help but smile. Things had been way too quiet since Qwark was demoted and Sasha had taken his place. He had even looked forward to working with crazed fans during the demonstrations just so he had something to do. Now, with his injured foot, he’d nearly been bored out of his mind. Cora was getting things back to the way they were and he hoped Sasha didn’t come back any time soon.

They entered the ground floor of the training room and Cora stopped in her tracks. Brax nearly bumped into her and looked around. The room was completely empty, except for the weapons lockers lined up against the walls. “So, where are those boxes? Or the desk chair, for that matter.”

“They were on their way here a minute ago. I just had them delivered here.”

Brax rolled his eyes and leaned on his crutch. “Way to go, Cora. Now we have to search all the rooms in the Hall for these things.”

“I could have sworn that I told them to bring the package here.” She shrugged and moved to walk back out with Brax when the door closed between them. She blinked and then frowned. Rapping her knuckles on the locked door, she shouted, “Ha ha! Very funny, Brax. Now let me out of here.”

“It’s not me!” Came the muffled response. “I can’t get the doors to open. Did you pay the electric bill?”

Cora grimaced and tapped her chin as she thought. Did she need to do that? A motion caught the corner of her eye. She walked away from the door to investigate. A surge box was sparkling as too much electricity flowed through it. The power visibly flowed down through the wires and across the floor. The platform she stepped on suddenly activated and sent her up to the observatory level. Brax had managed to make his way up there and stared from behind the glass.

She gave a silent shrug and looked over the edge of the platform to see what else the funny, electric surge was up to. It entered the weapons lockers and caused the display lights to dim. The lockers began to rattle and shake, weapons being knocked onto the floor on top of each other.

Brax pressed up against the window to see the commotion and gasped as a familiar pare of green eyes flickered to life in each of the weapons lockers. “Cora! Get out of there!”

“That’s what I asked you to do!” She barked, not taking her eyes off the assembling robots inside the pods. “Brax! What on Umbris is going on here?”

He was about to explain, but the control panel in the observatory short-circuited and cut out the sound. He pounded on the machine, but it refused to power back up again. He then turned to Cora and waved his hands around, but she didn’t understand what he was saying. She knelt down and stared at the green-eyed robots as they neared completion, formed by the very weapons surrounding them. “If that’s not armed and dangerous, I don’t know what is.” She stood back up as the lockers opened up and they took their first steps out of their pods.

“Uh, Brax? That one has my Combustor. Actually, it has all of my weapons!” She ducked out of the way as the five robots unleashed their attacks up towards the platform. Glass shattered and she looked over to see that Brax had thrown a crate through the window. The contents burst out of the broken box and the robots adapted to those weapons as well.

“C’mon!” he called through the large gap. 

The platform began lowering, so Cora stepped back to the edge and leaped forward before it could touch the floor. Blaster fire swirled around her as she soared through the air and tumbled through the hole, landing with all the grace of a Ranger.

“Let’s go, gimpy,” she ordered and sped off. This time, when the door closed, she rammed her shoulder straight into it. But it didn’t have the results she wanted and she stumbled back rubbing her shoulder.

Brax pushed her out of the way and rolled his own shoulders before taking a large leap towards the door with his rock-studded shoulder pauldron. The doors bent a bit, but with his second jab, the doors broke open.

“Remind me never to question your fashion sense again,” Cora said as they exited to room.

Down the escalator, at the front of the training room, they heard the door open as the robots made their way out. The Rangers quickly ran in the other direction, Brax doing well for hobbling on one foot and a crutch. However, he did tire out after they turned a few more corners.

“I told you we were getting out of shape,” Cora groaned, stopping for him to catch up. By this time, he was supporting himself on the wall with his other hand. “I want you to run like your life depends on it!”

“It does,” he gasped, “but that doesn’t change a thing!”

Cora groaned and franticly looked around them. “Here, give me a sec.” She ran through one of the doors, Brax almost calling for her to come back, afraid that this door too would lock her in. But she came running back out before it could even close. She was pushing on office chair.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Brax groaned, slouching even more.

“Pride goes before the fall, big guy,” she said, rolling it around and sweeping him into it from behind. “And if you don’t sit in this chair, you’re gonna fall hard.”

“I could take ‘em,” Brax complained as she pushed them down the hall, one foot on the bottom of the chair and the other shoving them forward.

“Yeah, like the last time you took on a green-eyed robot was a total success.” She glanced behind them as they careened forward. The robots weren’t far behind, turning the corner they were just at only moments later. “They make great time,” she grimaced and prepared for some evasive maneuvers.

“Quick!” Brax pointed to their left. “In there!”

She didn’t hesitate and the two dashed through the open door. It locking securely behind them on its own. It would appear that they were trapped again. As the five robots marched down the hall, they prepared to open fire as they surrounded the door.

As the door slid open, a plate of mashed potatoes was tossed onto one of their heads, sliding down until the plate clattered to the floor. Cora and Brax had the whole kitchen crew of Solana troopers armed with plates of food and tables turned for protection. “It’s time to get served!” Cora grinned, throwing her plate of spaghetti. “Fire!”

A few courses of breakfast, lunch, and dinner were thrown at the motionless robots, clogging up their current weapons with pancakes, broccoli, and a T-bone steak, much to Brax’s disappointment. The robots recalculated and withdrew their current weapons, swapping them out for clean ones and opening fire on the troop.

Cora and Brax ducked down. “How’s that distress signal coming?” Cora called to the last robot behind the cafeteria demo line. He was busy working with an old phone, with an antenna, hoping to get around the power surges that had been happening around the Hall of Heroes.

“I said ‘Phyronix, Captain Sasha Phyronix,’” the robot shouted through the phone. “No I don’t want the file on toothpicks! I want to contact the Captain…yes, I know she’s not in town, I want you to go and send her a distress signal. Tell her what’s happened here since she left…yes, I’ll hold.”

Cora and Brax looked at each other, fearing that help might come too late at this rate.

***

(…back to the present)

  


The old cargo ship didn’t crash when it landed, but no sooner did they land then they leapt from the vehicle and ran away as the nitro-battery overheated.

“Go, go, GO!” Ratchet stumbled a bit before lengthening his stride.

“She’s gonna blow!” Qwark shouted, jumping over a boulder and ducking his head with the other two.

The cargo starship did explode, kicking up sand and dirt in every direction. When the cloud disappeared, the three of them coughed up sand and looked up. The ship was blown to bits, pieces encased in glass, radiating green from the nitro-battery. The heat of the explosion was still there, making the sand sizzle as it slowly melted away into glass.

“That was way too close,” Ratchet gasped, leaning forward on the cool side of the rock.

“Two ships in one day, Lombax,” Qwark nudged his friend’s shoulder with his elbow. “How do you sleep at night?”

Ratchet ignored the tease and looked over to where Pawl had been sitting. He wasn’t there anymore. The little Ranger stood up and looked around. The planet they were on was a desert planet, no sign of civilization, but dark rain clouds to their right, whereas the place they stood now didn’t have a cloud to speak of. The only scenery was the new glass fixture, the sand and rock, large hefty purple creatures roaming farther out in the sands, and the occasional dead tree. He spotted Pawl heading in the direction towards the rain clouds.

“C’mon, grubs!” He waved them over without slowing his step. “Unless you want to be exposed to that radiation, I’d kick it into gear. That Captain of yours shouldn’t be too far behind either.”

The Rangers quickly ran to catch up with him.

*

Sasha and Clank flew over a desert planet, about to move through its atmosphere when a holographic call came through. It was Big Al, the Galactic Ranger’s offsite engineer. He mostly stuck to his business in a private block of Aleero City, highly popular and not as hard to get to as the rest of the shops in the city. His chubby yellow face greeted them, however, without his usual nerdy grin. His little, plump hologram held its composure in a rather more serious composure than usual.

“Captain Phyronix,” he said, sinuses slightly congested. “I hate to disturb you while you’re en route of the runaways, but we have a situation.”

“What kind of situation, Al?” Sasha stalled in her decent for a brief moment.

“Um, well,” Al scratched behind his little, pointed ears and shrugged helplessly, “it appears that we have a class nine, cognizant, malleable platform interfacing with the Hall of Heroes’ security system. Needless to say, it’s out of control and we’re trying to contain the problem before it spreads to further departments within the facility. Cora and Brax are leading an assault against the danger, but I’m afraid their tactics are rather…distasteful for the given circumstances.”

Sasha blinked, gradually taking in what he had said and translating it into layman’s terms. “Oh,” she replied slowly, looking down at the planet. “Do you require _immediate_ assistance?”

“That’s the thing!” His flabby cheeks pulled back into a toothy grin. “I’m charting your coordinates right now and comparing it with the holo-net protocol address of the initial association with the program—and you’re close to the source of the virus! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you knew that this was going to happen.”

Sasha grew frustrated and looked down at the planet again, a small flash of green appearing out in the desert. That had to be Ratchet and the others! She was so close and could probably fly down and arrest them all in one fell swoop.

“Big Al? Can you hear us?” Clank asked as the hologram began to break up, getting fuzzier. “Oh my.”

“It’s tapped into our communications! I’m sending you…coordinates of…! You need to…before…! I just…reservations…! …dinner for two!” The signal was lost, but the coordinates were successfully uploaded before the hologram disappeared.

“They appear to point to a nearby planet. We are fortunate to be in the vicinity of it.” Clank looked over at Sasha, who was still deliberating what to do. “The Rangers could be in dire trouble, Ms. Phyronix. A class nine virus of this nature could do more damage than just to the Hall of Heroes. If it attempts to spread from there, after having adapted to the resources from the Galactic Rangers, it could prove devastating to the safety of Aleero City.”

“If the Galactic Rangers go down,” Sasha nodded and suddenly changed course towards the new location, “then the all of Solana could be in trouble.”

*

After walking for a while, Ratchet looked up from the blurry, sandy ground and saw an overcast city. It looked more like Veldin, now that there were signs of life around, though the city was much larger than any of the towns on the backwater planet Ratchet called home. Still, as Ratchet got closer to the main road, which appeared to have been buried under sand over years of disuse, it didn’t appear that there were too many people around. A few neon signs were visible, saying that shops were open. A man in a white lab coat ran into one of them and closed the door with a slam, an audible lock heard from where Ratchet was standing.

The Lombax walked up behind his other two companions, who were observing the city’s holo-sign. The flickering picture showed a happy, boisterous, neighborly community.

“Boy did they get that wrong,” Qwark blew out a breath.

A red light lit up from beneath the sign. Like an eye, it flicked left and right at the dreary landscape until it settled on the three surprised outsiders. “Tourists! Welcome to…error! Greeting files corrupted.” For a computer, it seemed to stutter as it tried to find a way around its protocols to greet the first lifeforms it had seen other than the citizens of this unnamed city. “Uh, a glistening oasis on the planet Barlow! In the center of…erm, _this city_ …is Gadgetron’s breach into the Bogon Galaxy with this local office building. Tours of the plant start at…file not found…but feel free to—ah, forget it!”

“That’s the second worst advertising pitch I’ve heard this month,” Pawl raised a brow at the computer, which looked away, wishing the tourists would be on their way.

“I thought you said Bogon’s lead manufacturer was MegaCorp?” Ratchet cocked his head at the black market dealer. “What’s Gadgetron doing all the way out here?”

“Gadgetron tried to appeal to the tastes of the people in Bogon, but there was too much pride in their own business to let Lumos in and easily monopolize the place.”

Qwark looked around at the eerie city as they began walking through the streets. He gave a shudder and watched as another person wearing a lab coat disappeared into a shop and locked the door. “Whatever,” he said quickly. “Let’s just find that villain and put him behind bars. Where’s the map point to?”

Pawl reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tracking device.

Ratchet’s eyes widened. “Hey! That’s my design!”

“No patent, no theft.”

Ratchet swished his tail in irritation, but didn’t say any more.

Pawl narrowed his eyes and looked down his aquiline nose at the device as it pinged something on the radar. It was a ways off, but overall straight ahead of them, which made him narrow his eyes a little more. “The signal’s old, but your friend appears to have been behind that building when the signal dropped.” He pointed forward.

Their gazes settled on the abandoned Gadgetron office building. High above the rest of the decaying structures in the city. The tower proudly held on to the large ‘G’ of its previous owner’s logo on the side of its cone-like shape. The sides of the building were caked with sand and dirt, like much of the other buildings surrounding it. But the glass windows still held a little sheen as some sunlight briefly escaped the clouds and caught the side of the tower. Lighting crackled in the distance and Ratchet’s fur rose at the sight of the looming building.

“You don’t think,” Qwark voiced, looking the tower up and down, from the first floor to what he could see of the one hundred seventieth, “that this place is haunted, do you? Or what’s left after a zombie apocalypse?”

Pawl turned and grimaced up at the green hero. He wasn’t going to answer such a ridiculous question.

“Of course not, Qwark,” Ratchet reassured him. “The people just left because they lost their jobs when the building closed down.”

“But there are still people here,” Qwark looked around, expecting to see another scientist, but no one emerged again. “Somewhere.”

“Maybe we can look around and ask someone about the place before barging in the front door.” The Lombax looked around for an open shop, but the lights all began turning off.

Pawl placed his hands on his hips and huffed. “I get the feeling that these people don’t want us to do that.”

“No, wait,” Ratchet lifted a hand to silence them. His ears perked up, the city strangely quiet, except for a distant rumbling. His friends peered at him curiously before hearing something too.

The earth began to shake and the dust began to fall off of the buildings around them. Ancient lampposts’ lightbulbs rattled inside their boxes. The glass in the windows began to rattle as the buildings shook.

“Earthquake?” Ratchet guessed, raising his hands over his head.

“Worse!” Pawl gritted his teeth and his eyes widened as he looked behind them.

The others turned and jumped. Those purple creatures from before were getting closer, kicking up sand behind their two thick feet. Their scaly, torpedo-shaped bodies hulked forward with immense power, yellow eyes gleaming from under leathery brows. They were ready to stampede through the city streets whether the three decided to move or not.

“Run!” Ratchet was the first to react, dashing towards the center of the city. The other two were close behind him.

“There has to be an open building around here somewhere,” Pawl shouted as he looked up and down the streets they passed.

“There!” Qwark ran forward, but the door locked just as he arrived. He looked around again. “Or maybe there!” But the same results happened as he raced to the other side of the road. “Hey! I know you’re in there!”

“Just move, Qwark!” Ratchet raced past, tail streaming behind him. He easily outpaced the other two and made it to the plaza before anyone else. There was an ornate fountain with Rilgarian cupids posed in the dish. It was turned off now, but it was the only kind of shelter that wasn’t behind a locked door. Ratchet groaned, knowing that it wasn’t much protection and looked around, hoping for one more chance of an open shop door.

As luck would have it, another scientist was headed towards a building to his left. “Wait!” Ratchet called out, racing forward across the cobblestone plaza. The woman turned around and gasped. She waved the three over, holding the door open enough for them to slip past and then slamming it closed, locking it securely. The room was dark, the windows boarded up, but the woman motioned them to be quiet, listening through the door. Ratchet gulped for air and looked around them. It was a pawn shop of sorts, but the display cases had all been broken and emptied of most of their contents. There were still some jewelry in one display, but another labeled for spare robot parts was completely empty. The floor, walls, and ceiling were wood paneling, and there were mounted heads of some creatures. A particular one that caught his eye was some sort of space-moose with its eyes unaligned with one another, making the Lombax wrinkle his nose up in disgust at the ancient décor choices.

Not long afterwards, the rumbling grew and everything in the room began to shake. They held their breath, but they didn’t know why. After the rumbling slowly disappeared around a corner, the scientist let out a sigh and cautiously opened up the door. She peeked outside, Ratchet looking under her elbow and Qwark over both of theirs.

“Okay, it’s safe to go,” she opened the door further and stepped outside. “That was too close. Those Saur-Beasts are usually harmless, but they don’t know how to stop when something’s in their path.” She looked back at the newcomers, especially at Pawl, who was picking up a few minor gadgets from the looted shop. “Well,” she chuckled. “You’ve made yourself at home.”

“Oh, I, uh,” Pawl didn’t put the pieces down, but he didn’t like being caught with them in his arms either.

“No, it’s alright. This pawn shop is abandoned. Most of the buildings here are. Everyone scavenges for the best they can find so they can work on this or that project.”

Ratchet looked up at her, and noted the lab coat. “Are you a scientist? What are you doing out here?”

“For the Bolt Rush!” She beamed, tossing her blonde ponytail over her shoulder and placing her fists on her hips. “This place is littered with Gadgetron parts that aren’t on the market anywhere else. If you can find it, and keep a hold of it long enough, it’s yours to keep. Then you can either use it or sell it, though the later part usually ends in lawsuits.”

“Well, I intend to use it,” Pawl said, sifting through his bounty on the counter and pocketing a blue circuit board. “That’s one thing off my shopping list.”

“Are you a scientist too?” She asked, though questioning her assumption as she looked at his baggy khakis and maroon T-shirt. The backpack he held over one shoulder was top quality, she thought, however.

“I’m a freelance technician, ma’am. Refurbishing a wide variety of fine gadgets all the way from Solana. If you happen to have a rare, irreplaceable, one of a kind piece of equipment that needs some fine tuning,” Pawl threw some charm into his speech, hoping that he might just be able to walk away with another prized piece of gadgetry without anyone noticing, “look no further.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Ratchet warned, shaking his head. He snatched the tracking device from Pawl’s belt and looked at the beacon’s signal. It was stronger and he looked up at the building, the top of it hidden in the rainclouds. “Do you know anything about that building? Does anyone still live there?”

“Hm?” The scientist looked behind her and nodded. “Yup, though I wouldn’t recommend going in without an invite. The thug who owns the tower has a hand in a lot of the dealerships on this planet. He’s not all bad, but tends to keep the best for himself. Sometimes he gives away something just like new from the building at the hoverboard races.”

“Hoverboard races?” Ratchet grew excited.

“Yeah, you should try. They’re really fun to enter and worth it if you can get to the finish line in one piece. The prizes are valuable. This year’s is a Gadgetron certified starship! I don’t know how he kept it hidden all this time, but everyone with a hoverboard is racing for that one.”

Ratchet thought about this. They needed a ship, yet again, and this would probably be the easiest one to get. He had done some hoverboarding in the past and never thought it much of a challenge before.

“If someone enters the race,” Pawl asked, rubbing his metallic beard, “do they get a chance to talk with the guy who lives there?” He nodded towards the tower.

“Obviously,” she replied, dropping her arms to her sides. “How else is the deal going to be made? You can’t just leave a starship lying around outside here. Someone’s bound to take it for a joyride and never come back.”

“Right,” Ratchet nodded, hoping to get back to talking about the hoverboard races. “Just point me in the direction of the nearest signup sheet.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you even have a hoverboard?”

“Well, yeah!” He activated his helmet and tried to telequip the hoverboard.

“OUT OF RANGE, RANGER!” The screen blared. “PLEASE HANG UP AND TRY AGAIN LATER!”

“Not again,” he sighed.

“HAVE YOU TRIED TURNING IT OFF AND ON AGAIN?”

“Pawl,” Ratchet deactivated his helmet and smiled apologetically. “Could I ask you for one more small favor?” The Vullard frowned and growled.

“Technically, that’s not a ‘no’,” Qwark grinned, slapping Pawl on the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout-out:  
> Thanks to my bro for catching a few thing in this chapter and helping me edit out the bugs!
> 
> Doncha just love it when things go as planned? Now we're caught up! Come back next week for the next chapter installment. Here's a sneak peek at what will be coming up: hoverboard racing! Yeah! Can Ratchet get the gang another starship without crashing it this time? :P  
> And what of the Rangers? Has Elaris' good intentions doomed the rest of her friends? I'll let those questions burn in the back of your minds for a while. *evil laugh*


	12. Chapter 12

“Alright, I just have to magnify the frequency…bypass the Hall of Heroes firewall…” Pawl tinkered over Ratchet’s helmet, the screen dislodged and lying next to him in the dirt so he could see his progress while he worked on the circuitry. “Wow, that was easier than I expected.” He triumphantly twirled his stylus between his metallic fingers before putting it back to use.

Qwark and Ratchet watched impatiently, sitting on the side of the fountain and looking over his shoulder as Pawl worked in the dust. All the scavengers were out and investigating the buildings. Two walked by, talking about how that starship would be an easy win in the hoverboard race later that day. Ratchet grew anxious, hoping it wouldn’t start without him.

“Come on, Pawl,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You’re faster than this.”

“Well, I’m savoring the moment,” the other scoffed, not looking up at the Lombax. “It’s not every day I get to work with top of the line gadgetry.”

“That stuff if sensitive, highly classified, over-my-head Galactic Ranger property, bub,” Qwark pointed a finger at him.

“Do you want that hoverboard?” Pawl sighed, looking up at the horizon blearily.

“Yes!” Both Ratchet and Qwark yelled, on the verge of grabbing the helmet and tinkering with it themselves.

“Then shut your trap.” He fiddled with the circuitry a little longer and then frowned as the screen began to glitch out. “I’m getting some weird interference…but I think I can get around it….”

*

Back at the Hall of Heroes, one of the rogue robots that had been assembled in Ratchet’s locker broke apart as the bright yellow hoverboard was teleported away. Cora and Brax didn’t see what happened, but upon hearing that one of their assailants broke, they took courage. “One down, fellas,” Cora called out to the small troop of kitchen staff. “Keep at ‘em.”

“We’re all out of the main course!” One shouted.

“Wait!” Brax remembered something as he and Cora sat behind the upturned table. “Do we have any leftovers from the holiday?”

“Yeah, why?”

He frowned and became very grim. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say. He kicked himself mentally for this second humiliation the strong warrior had to endure. “Bring out the fruitcake.”

“Perfect,” Cora pumped her fist, not caring how strange a request this was. “Nobody ate that! It’s gotta be as hard as bricks by now!”

The chef behind the counter seemed heartbroken to hear this, but shuffled his robotic legs to the back and returned to serve the detested desert on trays, sliding them down the counter for the Rangers to stock up on.

“After this,” Brax sighed as he took the desert handed to him, “I’m not sure what else we can do.”

“Don’t worry, Brax,” Cora flashed a courageous smile to her downtrodden friend. “This’ll do the trick long enough until phase two.”

“Wha—! You have a phase two? And you didn’t tell me?”

The first wave of fruitcake was hurled over the barrier, knocking soundly into the infected weaponry, denting blasters profoundly and forcing the evil robots to swap out for newer arms.

“I didn’t know we’d get this far!” She yelled over return blaster fire. “After they broke through that expired can of soup, I wasn’t sure if we’d ever stop them.”

One of the troopers took a hit to the shoulder and collapsed to the floor. “I can’t believe I’m going to die in a food fight!” he wailed. Everyone ignored him and kept launching heavy bread over the barricade.

*

Back in the Bogon Galaxy, Ratchet, Qwark, and Pawl waited impatiently for the promised results. Minutes passed by and everyone’s nerves began to bother them. The Vullard furrowed his brow and pulled annoyingly at his metallic beard. He growled and slammed his fist down next to him, “Why is it taking so long? Did I grab the wrong frequency?”

Suddenly, the hoverboard appeared above Qwark’s head and bounced off the green cowl and into Pawl’s hands, happily surprising the robotic lizard. “Ah! There we go!”

“Sweet!” Ratchet jumped from his perch and snatched it up, turning it over to admire its sleek, yellow design again. Just as charming as it was before, though it had an foul odor about it, like rotten tomato soup.

The red helmet at their feet sparked and a puff of smoke rose from it. Pawl, still sitting next to it, shielded his face from the sparks that fizzled across the screen and wires. Once it settled down, he waved the smoke from his face. “I can fix that.”

“You do that,” Ratchet tried to hide his disappointment. Shaking himself out of it, he stashed the board under his arm and began moving down the dust-covered street. “I’m gonna go signup and get us that starship.”

“What makes you so certain that you can win it?” Pawl laughed, picking up the pieces of the helmet. “The day we met, you were nothing but a klutz, cross wiring the forward thruster with the altimeter on a junkyard hoverbike! I’d like to see you _try_ hoverboarding.”

“I dunno,” the Lombax called back, turning slightly to a sideways canter. “I’ve just got a good feeling about this!” He happily turned back around and ran off to find the sign-up stand, dreaming big as usual.

The green hero shook his head, a bad feeling rising up in him. Pinching his nose, Private Qwark grumbled, “If he breaks one more starship….”

“He’s a kid,” Pawl drawled as he bent forward, returning his attention to fixing the helmet. “Let him have his fun. Don’t tell me you’ve never crashed a starship before, big guy.”

Qwark was offended and didn’t bother responding further than a glare to the back of the robo-lizard’s head.

Pawl continued in his own believed good advice while soldering the circuitry back to the inside of the helmet, “At least he’ll do minimal damage in a hoverboard contest.” 

“Dibs on driver’s seat!” Ratchet called one last time before turning to street corner.

Pawl looked up and frowned, mirroring that of Qwark’s expression. “Beat him to it.”

Qwark nodded.

  


“Ladies and gents!” an announcer bellowed through his microphone from the box seats above the bleachers full of loud spectators. They faced a long road heading out of an abandoned construction site and down a barely visible path through the desert that had been plowed out for the race. There was discarded tools and machines pushed to the sides of empty buildings and all that remained in the center of the track were large pillars and the foundation of some unfinished building at the edge of town. “Take your seats and prepare to be blown away by another of our not-so-famous Bolt Rush Blitz!”

The crowd erupted into cheers regardless, a sizable outcome considering how empty the city had felt before. It appeared as if many had come specifically for the race alone, leaving Pawl to wonder as he and Qwark made their way through them if these events really were as unknown as the unseen announcer claimed. He and Qwark had taken a seat up a few steps and near the railing. Both looked up and down the dusty track for their would-be winner. So far, none of the racers had arrived and the suns were looming above the track as noon approached.

The Vullard leaned forward on his knees and tapped his metal and organic fingers together, pursing his lips as he impatiently waited for something to happen. The hero beside him was content to relax, kicking his large brown boots on the seat in front of them, forcing people to move elsewhere to sit for the spectacle before them.

Despite his earlier confidence, as he waited for the arrival of the boarders, Pawl’s anxiety got the better of him. This was turning out to be more than a simple street race. He scratched under his goggles and blew out a breath. “Do ya really think he can win this?”

“Sure he can! Who do you think trained him to be a Ranger?” Qwark grinned.

Pawl thought for a second about the rumors he had heard back in the Shadow Sector. “Wasn’t it that Lectrus-character?”

Qwark didn’t miss a beat in recovering and sat up straighter. “Yeah, well, who do ya think taught him?”

Pawl raised a thick metal brow, unsure if the Private’s alluded claim to fame was really reliable. And if it was the truth, what sort of disaster did that spell out for their situation? “Look,” Pawl leaned back in an attempt to relieve some stress. He folded his arms across his small chest and tapped his loafer on the bleachers. “I don’t keep up with the Joneses unless they buy my modified blasters. But for your sake, I hope the kid’s got talent and can pull this off.”

The announcer began speaking above the crowd again, “Our competitors this year have been mixed up a little, so hold on tight as things get bumpy! First off, he’ll either break your heart or leave you charmed by his mysteriousness,” the crowds cheered as a man dressed all in black floated his hoverboard up to the start line. “Here’s fan favorite, ‘Silent as the Stig’!” The racer wore wide sunglasses that wrapped around his pointed green Rilgarian-head, glinting in the sunlight. He didn’t seem to care about the cheers, solely focused on the track ahead of him.

“The rest of these washouts don’t need any introduction,” the man on the mic laughed as more racers hovered down the track. “We’ve seen them fail time and again with Stig grinding them into the dirt, sometimes literally!” The crowd booed and laughed as a series of disgruntled aliens came up to the starting line, some racers behaving more aggressively than others with much pushing and shoving.

The announcer paused for a moment. “Hold it! We’ve also got a newcomer to the starting line, no doubt to join the throng of losers. But who knows? Maybe Stig will meet his match.” The crowd’s laughter turned into jeering as the smallest racer floated up on his junkyard hoverboard, not nearly as modified as the others’.

One of the riders next to him laughed too, one of the more aggressive competitors. “Dude, you should put some upgrades on that slab, it’s making my eyes water!” 

Ratchet ignored him and mirrored Stig, solely focused on the track. Except, upon seeing Ratchet’s reaction, Stig cocked his head towards him for a brief glance before returning his focus and assuming a more serious stature, hunched and ready to kick off at the signal.

A familiar figure behind a dark mask made its appearance in the box next to the announcer. She leaned forward on the platform railing and considered the racers beneath her. The announcer had paused as he read the newbie’s name off the roster. “Give a big Barlow welcome to your next victim…Ubi-Daft?” Angela flinched. Where had she heard that before? One look at the competitor’s file in the announcer’s hand made her swallow hard.

“It’s a family name,” Ratchet called up, waggling an eyebrow at the masked stranger from the starting line. “Not at all made up or pinched from someone else.”

“Dude,” a boarder to his right shook his head. “Your comebacks are as frail as your bod’.”

The border on the other side of the Lombax chimed in, wanting to throw this runt off before he could prove them wrong, “I’m gonna enjoy breaking you and using your bones as pickup sticks.”

“Uh, ew?” Ratchet wrinkled his nose.

The other boarder was just as disgusted. “That’s just gross, stupid! And pickup sticks? Who even knows what that is anymore?”

Disheartened, the racer frowned and looked away.

Ratchet just smiled brighter and turned his focus on the racetrack. He looked like the only one looking forward to this race. Everyone else had a sense of dread that the Lombax found odd to be in what he considered a casual game. A casual game that gave you a rush. He could already feel the wind in his fur and the sand flit up to his fingertips as he eagerly waited for the signal to start the race.

But Angela wasn’t finished yet. She leaned forward on her platform and glowered at Ratchet from behind her mask. Taking the mic from the announcer, she said, “What do you say, everyone? Should we warn the new meat about the dangers on the track?”

The crowd booed, shouting, “New meat! New meat!”

Angela shrugged. This would be interesting. “Alright then, he’s just gonna have to wing it, and we all know how that’s gonna end!” She pressed a button on the console before her and the hovering light above the track began to change colors. It got quiet as the light changed.

Yellow…

Yellow…

Rippling yellow…

Striped yellow…

Ratchet squinted up at the light. What kind of race was this?

He almost forgot to shove off when the light turned green. The other racers were already far ahead of him, kicking up a sandstorm behind them. Ratchet grimaced and remembered the gravity of this race for him. For the starship. For Clank. For Solana. So much for casual racing.

He sped off, taken by surprise by the speed of the hoverboard. The one he had used back home had been one of Skid McMarx’s own personal boards, a laid-back hoverboard racer of great renowned, but that board was old and had seen better days. This one felt new and _fast_. “Oh, yeah!” Ratchet couldn’t help but shout to the wind as he leaned into it.

Squinting against the sand flying from the other boarders, Ratchet caught sight of his first obstacle. A large purple Saur-Beast roamed slowly across the middle of the track, lost from the earlier stampede. He yelped and swerved to avoid it. However, because of how new he was to his board, it turned too quickly and he nearly smashed into the side of a building at the edge of the site. He swerved again and gripped the front of his board, lifting it before it could make contact with the wall and he kicked away from it. Groaning exasperatedly, he made his way back out into the desert, miserably behind the other racers.

Pawl and Qwark watched from a screen hovering before the bleachers as the camera-bot focused on Ratchet, zooming out to show the massive distance between him and the other racers. “I thought you said he could race!” Pawl ground out, clenching his hands before his face. “This is an embarrassment!”

“I know he won some races back in Solana,” Qwark offered, sheepishly. He winced as Ratchet received a mouthful of sand from a hoverboarder that banked in front of him. “But I didn’t see them myself.”

Pawl scoffed. “Well, he isn’t going to get anywhere if he plays by the rules.” He got up and jumped over the side of the bleachers, landing below. “C’mon, I can’t stand watching this.”

Qwark peered over the side as the black market dealer was up to his tricks again. “What are you doing with that hoverkart?” Qwark demanded as he too leapt from the bleachers. Pawl had already hopped into a rusty red hoverkart left unattended.

“We’re only borrowing it,” he replied, not looking back at the Ranger.

Good enough for Qwark. He grinned and jumped in beside the Vullard. “Well, so long as it’s only borrowing.”

Pawl rolled his eyes. How stupid could this guy be? Flipping open a compartment, he proceeded to hotwire the kart and started the engine. “Now,” he said to no one in particular. “Let’s go secure us a win.”

Ratchet kicked it into gear as the desert expanded before him, the racers not too far ahead now. His long, striped tail streamed behind him as he leaned further into the wind, cutting back on resistance. The track was about to change soon and he wanted to keep up before getting lost along the way.

A tunnel opened up beneath the sand up ahead, large black wires coming up from the sand and descending into the dark. It was a maintenance tunnel for the ancient powerlines that kept the Unknown City powered, even after all these years since Gadgetron’s removal.

The racers descended alongside the giant wires into the dark. Maintenance paths broke out into separate routes. It was pick and choose, nothing guaranteeing that one tunnel actually led outside or deeper underground. Ratchet followed a group as they split off towards the left, a decline further into the tunnel.

The small group that had taken the ramp leading upwards came to a slamming halt when they burst through the office above and piled up in a mess of papers and boxes. A camera had followed them in there to provide comic relief for the crowds back home. These racers were out of luck, no chances to untangle themselves and catch up with the other group.

Meanwhile, the tunnel lights were dim, but the Lombax could make out the silhouettes of the other racers ahead of him. Before he knew it, just as his eyes were adjusting to the dark, a bright light came from the end of the tunnel, making his recoil and squint again. But once his vision cleared, he zoomed along the track in a daze. The road curved along the side of a cliff, rings spaced out to define the path, the clouds below betraying just how high up he was from the ground below. He hadn’t even realized that the city had been sitting so close to the drop off.

A racer ahead of him took advantage of the young Ranger’s distraction and let slip a little marble. It bounced off the track and onto the underside of Ratchet’s hoverboard without him noticing. Smiling foolishly, the scoundrel tapped a button with the heel of his shoes and detonated the little device.

Ratchet felt himself lose altitude quickly and yelped as he rolled forward, covering his head as he fell. When he stopped rolling, he gingerly lifted himself up and stared at the quickly retreating villain. Looking back, he had realized that his hoverboard had been magnetized to the track. Frustrated, he forgot his bruises and rushed back, taking the OmniWrench from his harness and prying the board off the ground. He dislodged the small black orb and flicked it off the cliff.

Flipping the board back over again, he got a running start and jumped onto it again. “That’s how it’s going down, huh?” He grumbled. He hadn’t been in a race where gadgets were allowed. Holding onto his OmniWrench, he prepared to defend himself against more attacks.

The track was coming to another transition. Out of the cool air and into the hot cliffside. Large fans spun lazily above and beside Ratchet as the cooling facility did what it could against the natural river of lava that bubbled beneath the mesh track. It looked as if this was where Gadgetron had done most of the smelting for their metal for their weapons. Abandoned buckets and molds hung in the air above the racers as they wound around the scaffolding.

Ratchet took note as one racer lifted a blaster towards one of the larger molds, firing at the hook it rested on and causing the whole thing to crash heavily down. It landed crookedly, angled up at the oncoming racers and a small gap, barely a sliver of room, underneath where the railing caught the side. While the two racers gasped and came to a skittering halt before face planting into the hot machinery, Ratchet did what came naturally and slid onto his back on his hoverboard, sliding under the mold as if it were another ship in need of repair at Grim’s garage. Jumping back up on the other side, he smiled at his cleverness. “Ha! Is that all you’ve got?”

Stig, far ahead of the group, glanced back at the Lombax and grunted as he disappeared down the next tunnel. The racer who had so skillfully shot down the machinery, however, was more upset about his failed plan. He fired up at a massive bucket above their heads and watched as it fell down--before all of them! Having misjudged it’s size, the racer was thrown off balance as the bucket, the size of a starship, broke the scaffolding, wrenching it up at odd angles, and crashed into the lava below. The track shook and everyone struggled to keep their balance.

Ratchet took his opportunity and flew beneath their flailing arms, turning towards an upward curve of the mesh left behind from the crash. He launched himself up from there and flew over the gap, landing safely on the other side. Happily taking second place. Other racers caught on, however, and used the same ramp to achieve similar results.

The facility turned into a broken service tunnel, which in turn changed into a crack in the side of the mountain due to a cave in years before. Bursting through the opening, Ratchet gasped and held his arms out to his sides as he found himself racing down the narrowest bridge he had ever seen. He didn’t move, didn’t dare breath as his green eyes widened at the abyss of clouds beneath him.

“Hey, noob!”

Ratchet’s gaze lifted to Skid, racing backwards across the bridge. The green Rilgarian was comfortable on this portion of the track, having ridden it hundreds of times before. He gave Ratchet a thumbs-up, “Good moves back there.” He then turned his thumb downward. “But this is where you get off.”

The racers lined up behind Ratchet began laughing as they increased their speed and Stig decreased his. Their boards bumped into Ratchet’s, causing him to waver in his balance. He shouted, “Hey! Knock it off guys!” The racers laughed. Ratchet gulped. “Let me rephrase--” The boarders knocked into him again and he struggled to straighten. He gritted his teeth and snapped, “Quit it!”

A flying camera circled from above the bridge, in full view of the one Lombax against all racers. The crowds were a mixture of rioting laughter and nervous gasps. Was this taking it maybe too far? No one knew where the bottom was under that bridge and there was still much of it to cover.

Qwark, watching through binoculars from a knoll of dried grass on the opposite side of the bridge, chewed on his three-fingered glove. “This is worse than the season four finale of ‘Lance and Janice,’ the episode where Lance’s starship so conveniently ran out of gas at the edge of a blackhole of a neighboring star about to supernova!”

“Right,” Pawl grumbled as he set up charges around the hill, facing the track below them. “Ratchet just has to make it across and then we’ll take care of the rest. And--wait, where did you get those binoculars from?”

“They were in the glovebox,” Qwark waved absently as he watched the race from their vantage point. It was far enough away that the floating cameras wouldn’t see them, but high enough that they could see everything.

Ratchet was of course floundering at this moment to keep his board on the narrow bridge barely as wide as the hoverboard. The racers had back off, but were about to nudge him again when Ratchet twirled his OmniWrench in his hand, scowling at his assailants on either side. “I don’t know what the rules are of this race, or if there’s even _any_ rules,” he shouted, turning between Stig and the others, his gadget held high.

“What’s the matter, kitty?” Stig laughed. “Scared of heights?”

The other racers laughed as well and made a line up behind him. Stig came in for another round as well, but Ratchet leered at him.

“One thing you should know,” Ratchet shouted over the wind, seeing that there was only a little more bridge left to go. He swung his OmniWrench backwards, causing the boarders to back off again and giving him enough room to twist his gadget and bring it down slanted to the track. He pushed off the bridge and vaulted into the air. Twisting and making Stig duck from his swinging weapon, which cuffed him slightly on the side of his head, Ratchet landed in front of him. The Lombax looked back, a thrill running through him at this new feat. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it. But he smiled ear to ear and continued, “Never corner a cat.”

Stig’s dark shades fell from his face as he struggled to regain balance. His beady dark eyes glared at his rival and he whipped out his own weapon. “No one outshines Stig!”

The two raced off the track and into the clearing. Up ahead was a tunnel that would take them back to the construction site. That is, if either of them survived the battle they now engaged. Stig fired a few blasts, narrowly missing Ratchet’s slim figure. The Lombax, only armed with his beat-up OmniWrench, desperately tried to think of some plan to escape at least mostly unscathed.

Once again, Ratchet felt the missing weight from his harness all the more profoundly as he wished his teammate was here to calculate the quickest moves to dispatch this new enemy. For now, he’d have to rely on instinct, though he was running out of ideas himself.

Pawl and Qwark retreated from the hillside up above as the racers got closer to where they were. Taking cover by a dead tree, Pawl held out a wireless detonator stick. “Fire in the hole!” Qwark covered his ears in expectation of the blast.

Pressing down on the detonator, the mines on the hillside blew chunks of rock and sand into the withered field of grass. This distracted Stig long enough for Ratchet to swing his OmniWrench and make his enemy drop his weapon. It caught underneath his opponent’s board and tripped him up, sending him flying backwards into the other racers. Stunned, they all were engulfed in the tsunami-like avalanche of sand and rock. Ratchet gulped and turned forward again, leaning so far forward on his board that he was nearly flat with it. He dove into the tunnel and sand clogged up the other end only seconds later.

The camera, unsure of how to proceed, flew quickly over the hill and descended on the other side, waiting at the opening. The crowds held their breath as dust gradually flew up from the mouth of the tunnel. Pawl and Qwark peered from their side of the hill, looking at the finish line with expectation.

Sand erupted from the opening and spewed towards the finish line, crowds screaming until they realized that it wasn’t gushing anymore.

A trickle of sand had made its way to the checkered flag. Bursting forth from that patch of sand was an even sandier colored Lombax, spitting up dirt and rubbing his eyes. He blinked and looked up, the area deathly quiet. He soon realized where he was and smirked, amused. “I made it!”

Pawl nodded in satisfaction and looked back over the construction site. The crowds were cheering their hardest, going wild after such a spectacular ending. All except for one figure that was retreating quickly from the track. The Vullard frowned and turned back. He jumped into the hoverkart. “You get the kid and head for the tower! There’s one last step that needs taking.”

“Uh, okay,” Qwark blinked in surprise by Pawl’s burst of authority over the situation. If he didn’t know any better, the black market dealer could have been a leader-figure, taking charge and ready with a plan. Good thing Qwark new better. He picked up the pace and headed down towards the celebration to retrieve the kid.

Pawl grumbled under his breath as he sped off down the hill and towards the empty town. “I gotta do everything around here…Ratchet, you better thank your lucky stars that I need those Gadgetron parts!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn’t mean to let those questions burn in the back of your minds for that long! What can I say? Life is unpredictable. I suppose this means another LaughingLombax Marathon is in order. I’d like to say that I hope this doesn’t happen again, but in reality, it’s not so bad a deal to wait two weeks just to have three chapters in one week.
> 
> The track is based off of the actual one on Barlow from the earlier games. It's hard to map it out when they're racing _that fast_ down the track, but I did my best thanks to watching YouTube videos of it over and over again.
> 
> An interesting tidbit for fans who watched the movie: did you know there was supposed to be a fifth Ranger? His name was Stig (yup, I made a _reimagining_ of a reimagined character and I think of TopGear's Stig-character for this model of mine). And though details about who he was and what he looked like are pretty fuzzy, there are signs of him in the movie. Elaris has a sticky-note on her board with a heart around his name (she was supposed to have a crush on him--check out that board, by the way, a _lot_ of Easter eggs and most of it is legible) and during the first mission briefing by Qwark, there was a sixth character doodled in with the capture of Drek. Yeah, I caught that and had my mind blown. That movie is surprising in many ways.
> 
> Here's an assignment for you while you wait for Wednesday's chapter (yeah, class is in session):  
> Pop the 'Ratchet & Clank' movie into your DVD player; listen to it in the background; quote every line a bajillion times; say to no one in particular what lines are annoying and admit to what scenes are downright Looney Tunes hilarious as you work on something else. Then sit down and watch it again the next day, noticing the **fear** in Ratchet's eyes when he's captured by Drek. Seriously. I don't know why I didn't catch it the first dozen times I watched the movie. After I saw his eyes frantically flash back and forth between Drek and his minions, unsure if he was going to walk away from this encounter or face some unknown torture, I shut up there. I watched it and thought about how scared Ratchet looked. I started seeing the movie through Ratchet's eyes, the fanboy who was just in over his head. I enjoyed the movie like the first time I watched it.  
>  It's a good movie, guys. You just have to get over the red herrings (Clank and solo-flights--bothers me to this day) and look at the story Kevin Munroe and the rest of the team wanted to tell with the resources and time given to him, even if it's only hinted at. Watch the interviews at the end of the disk. It's really a good story! Enjoy.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO RATCHET AND CLANK!!!

Clank peered out of the windshield of the starship as it landed on the quiet industrial planet. It reminded Clank a little of his roots back in Solana; a sense of Drek Industries’ dark and smoggy atmosphere washed over him, remembering where he and the other warbots were created. But there were no busy Blarg running back and forth or robot sentinels marching in line. It was quiet and ghostly.

Sasha telequipped a blaster to her hand and checked the ammunition levels. Surprised, Clank turned to her, “How is it that you can access your weapons so far from the Solana Galaxy?”

She motioned with her thumb to the back seat. There Clank saw the ship’s weapons locker fully loaded with old and new weapons. “Gotta have the essentials,” she mumbled as she looked back up. Something didn’t seem right to her as she studied the industrial plant before them with skepticism. Nonetheless, she and Clank exited the vehicle and stood on the empty loading dock as they stared at the large ‘M’ on the side of the building jutting up into the gloomy sky. “This can’t be the right place. I mean, MegaCorp’s headquarters? Why would MegaCorp even bother with the Rangers?”

“Big Al’s coordinates specifically come from this building’s IP address,” Clank double-checked his memory banks, just to be sure. “Though it is curious that they would be connected to this somehow.” He looked up at the Cazares as she looked around the loading dock for signs of life. “Perhaps someone has infiltrated their systems after hours?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like any of the workers are about,” Sasha nodded and motioned for them to move in. “Let’s just check with security and see if we can get any answers.”

They walked towards the looming building and tried not to gawk at its immensity. Sasha felt a chill run up her spine and Clank’s servos were making his fans whir rapidly. Irrational feelings, of course, they both thought to themselves. Had there been more people roaming about, it wouldn’t feel nearly as foreboding as it did then.

They came to a lit door at the base of the building and knocked. Clank cleared his throat and motioned towards the blaster in the young Captain’s hands.

“Oh! Right,” Sasha retracted it. She didn’t want to seem threatening to the building’s security.

The door slid open and a slim, elderly security-bot stood before them. His grey eyes widened in astonishment and he held an old-fashioned flashlight in his shaking hands. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Sasha heard the quiver in his voice module and guessed that she should go easy on the old robot. “Uh, hi. I’m Captain Phyronix of the Galactic Rangers and this is, uh,” she hesitated on what to call Clank. Escaped convict? Ex-Ranger?

“Clank, sir,” the little robot injected politely. “We were flying through the system on a matter of intergalactic safety and received a distress call that comes to concern your building.”

“My building?” the old robot took off his blue security cap and wiped at his tall, overheating, metal forehead. “Nah, this building belongs to Abercrombie Fizzwidget, CEO of MegaCorp Industries.”

Sasha grimaced at the miscommunication error. How old was this guy? “Listen,” she urged gently. “Is there someone else we can talk to? We’re in a bit of a rush and--?”

“Sure!” the robot quickly ushered them inside and slammed the door closed. All the lights were turned off and he flipped on his flashlight, waving for them to follow him. “Always glad to help a fellow lawman--or woman, sorry ma’am.”

“Why are all the lights turned off?” Sasha asked, looking around at all the perfectly good light fixtures on the ceiling and walls.

The security-bot gave a nervous chuckle. “That’s what I was on my way to find out before you two knocked. My best guess is some of those ProtoPet critters got into the breaker box.”

“Did you say, ProtoPet?” Clank asked, vaguely recalling that name somewhere.

“Yeah,” their guide chuckled nervously again. “Nasty little things. They’re supposed to be domesticated for mass production, but without our lead bioengineer on the project anymore, test subjects have become more feral by the hour.”

Sasha and Clank shared a look before the Captain telequipped her blaster back to her hands and walked more cautiously. Sasha glanced behind them quickly, “And, how many would you say are running around the building?”

“One, two...” the guard tapped the tip of his chin. “Well, no more than five have gone missing in the past week. No! Fifteen!” He stopped walking, nearly causing his guests to bump into him. He grew frustrated as he thought about it more, realizing that he couldn’t remember the exact figures. “Or maybe that was last week’s count.”

Something crashed in the background and skittered around the corner. Sasha jumped and leveled her blaster to corner of the wall. It was too dark to see, even when the flashlight lit up the area, revealing nothing. “Could we _please_ get some lights on in here?”

“Sure, sure,” the security-bot wheezed and they hurried their way to the breaker room. They opened the door and quickly slammed it shut behind them.

Turning around, Clank saw sparks coming from the breaker box and one backup light flickering over a work desk. The room was large, full of storage containers and a few shelves against the wall. A little like the garage he and Ratchet had just purchased, he mused.

The security-bot walked over to the breaker box and took a look at the broken fuses within. “Aw! Dang critters!” he grumbled as he went to search a nearby shelf for replacements. “Broke five fuses and the lid!”

“Allow us to assist,” Clank said, wanting to be of some use. He walked up beside him and pulled at a box on the lower shelf while Sasha looked around for any movement like before.

Clank looked inside the box and hummed as he saw something unusual crawl around inside of it. “Pardon me,” he looked up at the frustrated guard. “But what is that?”

The guard raised a brow and hunched over to look at the diamond-shaped device crawl around in circles. It had a blank screen on its back and a red tip on one of its points. It crawled around on insect-like legs, but unable to climb out.

“Oh, that’s one of them upgraded ProtoPets, 2.0 or whatever.” He reached in and pulled it out, studying the wiggling legs. “Almost forgot about those.”

“2.0?” Sasha asked, coming forward to look at the little bug-bot.

“Yeah, you know, after the first organic ProtoPet assignment flopped,” he looked down at her. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

She was about to reply in the negative, but the ProtoPet 2.0 had taken the red tip of its diamond body and took a stab at the security guard’s finger. Sparks flew between clashing metal. He yelped and dropped the bug back into the box where it didn’t move anymore.

“Nasty, hm!” He was sucking his thumb when the grey shade of his eyes turned bright green. He took his finger out of his mouth and stood up straighter. “Initial upload complete. Directive rewritten. Destroy Rangers.”

“What?!” Sasha grabbed Clank’s hand and pushed him behind her, bringing her weapon at level with the guard’s chest. He walked forward, but she couldn’t bring herself to fire at the old robot. She closed her eyes and waited for something to happen. Peeking again, she saw the security-bot walking against her blaster, unable to come any closer.

She blinked and leaned back as he leaned forward, not even using his arms to reach for her. “User malfunction. Error. Unsuitable host. Weapons count, zero. Searching....” He stood back again and scanned the area. His gaze wavered over Sasha and then Clank at her ankles, but then focused more on the blaster in the Captain’s hands. He reached out for the weapon and grasped it. Sasha and Clank jumped back, but the sparks had already flown between robot and device.

The security-bot came back to his senses and saw the weapon pointed at him. Frightened, he pulled out his flashlight and held it up over his head as a baton. “D-Don’t make me use this!”

Sasha sighed, relieved that he was back to normal and lowered her weapon. It fired a blast by itself at the floor and she dropped it in surprise. Sparks fizzled up through the Captain’s armor, up to the covered ears of her helmet. She could only stare as the screen of her visor displayed error codes across it. Quickly taking off her helmet, she dropped it to the ground next to the blaster.

“It’s the virus! It’s gotten into my weapons locker!” She bit her lip as she wondered what was happening to her starship outside.

“Curious. It was infected by that stray ProtoPet device,” Clank stood back, but still interested as he observed the blaster and helmet spark and dance on the floor.

“Stand back, Clank,” Sasha warned with an outreached hand. “I don’t need you going berserk too.”

Heavy stomps came from beyond the door behind them. “What now?” Sasha turned tensely towards the door.

The steps came closer and closer until stopping on the other side. The door remained closed. Clank turned towards the security guard, who was the most frightened of them all, poor fellow. “Who else is in the building?” Clank inquired.

“Besides you two, me, and the ProtoPets,” he whispered, the elderly bot’s knees clattering beneath him, “There’s Fizzwidget upstairs and--”

The door flew open, revealing Shellshock on the other side. The veteran warbot looked at the two Rangers and the security bot. “Hm! Here I am lookin’ for a stray and I find you three instead!” Noticing the glitched out weapons on the floor, he grinned wickedly. “And the circumstances couldn’t ha’ been betta.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to give you so little, but I think I hate even more not giving you anything at all.  
> As you can imagine by now, I’m starting to get really busy in my life as chapter updates start wavering from a perfectly good schedule to a whatever-this-mess-is. But on top of that, I’m starting to near the whole WIP status (work in progress) and I’m just about out of chapters that I can lazily edit within my free time. Now it’s back to the nitty-gritty-ness of actually writing again....  
> That being said, you’ve had fair warning that I might not be on as often for a while, at least not until I can find a good long break in my life to write. But don’t think I’m done writing this! I’ve still got hundreds of ideas that I need to write out.  
> You can check back every week if you like, but chances are better if you check back every _other_ week for chapter updates. Maybe even every other-other week, but I really don’t want that to happen.  
>  Just to make doubly clear, this isn’t _goodbye_ \--stars! No-- just see ya around.  
> (...what a wonderful way to start the R&C 15th anniversary, huh? *sarcasm*)  
>   
> Oh! And the security-bot is based off of Clank's Security Backup in his brain from that fifth game.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bursts through the gateway* I'm back!!!

Elaris sat in her little prison-office, staring at the two red dots on the hologram. There had been an interesting change of events recently as Sasha and Clank separated from the chase of the other party. Elaris squinted at the screen and noticed something as she studied the layout of the stars and planets. This definitely wasn’t the Solana Galaxy. Leaning back in her chair, she rolled it back towards the computer.

Within moments, she had found the answer. “Bogon,” she mumbled and clicked on a news headline about gardens, sure to keep the camera from catching her. She pretended to be interested in the botany, but she was researching the different planets that each of these garden beds were from. There were so many planets! Frustrated, she gave up trying to find out where she was and instead tried to figure out where her friends were. Maybe she could warn them in time before her upgraded virus caught up to them.

She bit her lip and dared to look for news from Solana, hoping Ace hadn’t done what she thought he might. She pulled up a video from Holo-Vid Nightly and listened as Juanita Alvaro gave the scoop on what was happening in Aleero City.

“Ten civilians and the Galactic Rangers remain trapped inside the Hall of Heroes as an unexpected breech in security places the building and surrounding grounds on lock down. The security system is so tight that the remaining troopers outside have yet to successfully get past the gates.”

The camera shifted from the anchorwoman to the blue Ranger bots being carried off by gurneys. Several were scorched after being hit by the laser-guided weapons mounted on the gate and walls of the Hall of Heroes.

The camera angle changed again to a little shop in a clearing. Big Al stood back from his store, gawking and then covering his ears as the weapons inside went ballistic. “I could use some more troopers over here!” he called despairingly. Noticing the camera, he gasped and waved his hands. “Keep technology off the lot! This is a class nine emergency we’re talking about! It’s like I’m the only one who knows what’s going on.” He made the cameraman lower his device, recording their feet instead. “Don’t you guys read the manual?”

Elaris closed the video and sighed.

A knock came from the door and then it flew open. Two combat bots peeked in. “Time to rotate!” Smelt ordered.

Elaris turned her chair around and ignored them. It wasn’t long after that Flux burst out laughing. “Ha! You said rotate and then she rotated!”

Smelt punched his brother’s shoulder. “Pinhead.” Turning back to their prisoner, he tried again, gruffer this time so as to make her listen to them, “Listen, missy! We’ve got strict orders to take you to the dining hall. So, unless you’re secretly a robot in disguise and don’t actually eat food, I recommend you come with us.”

Flux was intrigued. “Is that another one of those conspiracy theories?”

Smelt nodded. “I have half a mind to believe it’s true. Ain’t no way an organic is as tech savvy as a robot.”

Elaris rolled her eyes, tired of being pushed around. If it wasn’t enough at home, then it was Ace and his team telling her where to go and what to do. “Alright, let’s get moving then, since I’m obviously not a robot.” And she meant it. She was her own person and wanted to prove it somehow, someday.

The combat bots made room for her to walk out and then hovered on either side of her as they made their way down the hall.

There was a brief pause before Smelt tired of the awkward silence. “We heard you were supposed to be Captain of the Galactic Rangers, that is, until Ms. Phyronix showed up.”

Flux crossed his arms and shook his head as he watched the ground move beneath him. “I know what it’s like to be cheated out of something. Like being the first off the conveyor belt!” He shot a look at his brother. “I was assembled fifteen minutes before you!”

“But if I hadn’t knocked you back, you’d have my fall colors,” Smelt smirked back. “No one can pull this look off except me.”

"You try going under cover when you're electric blue!"

Elaris hardly paid any attention to her guards, noticing all the open doors around them. Each room revealing some project or another being worked on by a series of robotic arms. There were weapons, robots, even an automated Zen garden. This place was a technician’s dream factory, projects completed left and right with no human error to be seen.

“What is this place?” She asked, looking around, already forgetting her escape plans.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Flux beamed.

“Though we’re not obliged to tell you the name of the building, we can say that this place has been built under the watchful eyes of Ace Hardlight. He’s very proud of it.”

Elaris scoffed. “Then why did he only give so much room for his office?”

“Ace was never a programmer,” Smelt replied.

“He was more of a hands-on—” Flux interrupted.

“Do-it-yourself—”

“When-the-going-gets-tough—”

“Blow-stuff-up, kinda person.”

They began moving past a wall plastered over with memorabilia of Ace’s hero days back in Solana. There were photographs of him saving people from fires and alien invasions. He was at dedications to new buildings and bridges, cutting ribbons and shaking the president’s hand. Headlines called him the, “Vigilant Vigilante,” but also, “The One Man Army” and “Solana’s Finest Hero.” Trophies and medals were places in high, protected cases on the wall.

Elaris looked at how happy Ace was in those photographs and wondered about how that smile turned from being so genuine to something sinister. What would it have been like to have lost everything you worked hard for? To lose all recognition in a matter of days? Elaris felt herself sympathizing with him. She hadn’t gotten recognition for her work for the longest time. Since Qwark had been demoted then, she had slowly gotten attention for her gadgetry and was on her way to becoming Captain.

Flux rubbed his chin. “So, why didn’ ya become Captain, anyway?”

Elaris shrugged and sighed as they moved away from Ace’s long-forgotten memories. “I didn’t think I was quite ready to take that step yet,” she crossed her arms. “Being Captain means engaging in more field operations, combat training, and—”

“Bringing down the baddies,” Flux pitched in, getting excited.

Smelt cleared his throat. “That’s us, moron.”

Elaris smirked at Flux’s embarrassment. These robots didn’t seem as bad as they tried to make themselves out to be. Oddly enough, they made her think of Ratchet and Clank a little. Friends even though they still bickered. She shook her head and continued, “After that confrontation with Victor Von Ion,” she rubbed her shoulder absently, where she had hit it on a water valve on the Starship Phoenix during the attack long ago, “I knew I wasn’t ready for the battle field. Not yet.” She caught herself rubbing her shoulder and dropper her hands. “Besides, I like being a technician, coming up with plans and strategies, gadgets and weaponry.”

Smelt shrugged and they turned down another hallway. “You’re loss, although,” he tapped his fingers together sheepishly. “Seeing as that we’re going to be here awhile, at least until Ace tells us part two of the plan—?”

Flux seemed to read his brother’s mind and moved ahead of them, turning around and halting them in their tracks. “Wait, you’re not suggesting—”

“I’m bored, Flux! What’s a little combat training going to hurt?”

Elaris was startled. “You want to train me?”

“Yes, exactly!” Flux gestured at her with equal shock. “This sounds like something I would have suggested!”

Smelt hovered forward and squared off with his brother. “Then why did I think of it?”

Flux wanted to retort, but ended up more confused than before. “Well, you are the more smarter one.”

Smelt shook his head, cringing at the poor grammar. “Sure, whatever,” he then looked up at Elaris. “Think about it. I don’t think Ace would care either way. He knows what it’s like to be bored out of his mind. And, face it missy, you’ve got a mind that needs preservation.” 

“Wow, four syllables,” Flux muttered with a chuckle.

Elaris grimaced and looked around, noting the training rooms, the mass produced dummies and weapons. “I don’t know,” she crossed her arms again, but found her gaze lingering on the rooms. “Though, this would be the perfect place to start.” Maybe she could even use that training to help her escape. This thought intrigued her and she took Smelt’s advice to seriously consider it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to a dear friend of mine who shared in my nerdom this past week, pointing out that Elaris needs a struggle to confront what she said in the movie. "Literally. He turned evil. But don't worry. That won't happen to me."  
> Well, I think I will explore this idea some more. Thanks for the help!
> 
> So, sorry about being gone for so long, saying that I'd be back any day...yeah, that never happened ^_^' But now I have that break--erm, I guess I should confess that I'm still in college. That might make things more understandable with these irregular updates. Yeah, homework, work, and some other third thing (probably sleep) keep getting in the way of me and this little project of mine. But I'm back! I'm moderately stress free! And I'm ready to dive back in!  
> To kick things off, enjoy this scene. I couldn't wait any longer and just had to post something as soon as I finished it. I'll try to get back into updating things every week again, if I can help it.  
> Great to be back and writing again (oh! Creative writing! I've missed you so!)  
> See y' all later!


	15. Chapter 15

Ratchet and Qwark came running up to the base of the abandoned Gadgetron building. The Lombax was out of breath after the hoverboard racing, but didn’t stop running until he reached the Vullard’s side. Pawl stood outside the door, hands akimbo as he stared frustrated at the building through his organic and robotic eyes.

Ratchet took a gulp of air to steady his breathing. “Where’d he go?”

Pawl jutted his pointed, metal beard towards the door. “Inside, but he’s activated the security system. I can’t get in.”

“Leave that to us,” Ratchet replied, already activating his helmet and grabbing his OmniWrench.

Pawl looked down at him disapprovingly. “I couldn’t secure a connection with your weapons locker, kid. That clunky OmniWrench is all the arsenal you’ve got. You still want to go into an abandoned gadget _factory_?” He looked back at the door again, “Who knows what he’s done with all that tech in there.”

“We’ve got no choice,” Ratchet frowned, not liking the idea any better. “Let’s just hope three against one will be enough. You commin’ Qwark?”

“Well,” Private Qwark’s voice cracked slightly at the sight of the looming, pointed building. “As much fun as going into the unknown against impossible odds sounds, I was wondering if you might want someone to watch the door in case he tries to escape.”

“I’d rather you lead the way,” Ratchet tried to sound convincing and sell the idea to him. “And we know you’ve lead the way into battle hundreds of times before now.”

Qwark’s pride swelled and he grinned, pushing his way in front of the other two. “What can I say? Not everyone can be both a natural born hero and this strapping.”

“Alright,” Ratchet took a step back and looked at his small team and the large building they were about to raid. Coming up with a plan on the spot was hard, but he was running on adrenaline and there was limited time to waste coming up with something too elaborate. “We’ll start by bypassing the security system. I think I can handle that if we can find an outdoor power source connected to the—”

He was cut off as Qwark forced his way through the locked front door, setting the alarm off. “Or we could charge in willy-nilly!” Ratchet growled. No choice now so he and Pawl ran in behind Qwark, ready for anything that might be thrown their way.

The lobby was full of overturned crates collecting dust, reflecting the glare of the flashing red lights. The desk was empty, but the elevator behind it dinged as the teleport chamber allowed someone access to the ground level. The chrome doors flew open and little blue and yellow robots flew out, mini-lasers for hands, primed for attack.

“Mr. Zurkon is ready to cream intruders,” one of them barked.

Another floated up from behind and pointed its weapon threateningly at the team. “And put it in his coffee!”

“Move!” Ratchet shouted just as the robots began firing. He jumped around the lobby, using the crates for shelter, the others following likewise in opposite directions, splitting up the robot’s attention.

Qwark’s big bulk and broad shoulders made it harder for him to find shelter. He bumped into a crate and it fell forward, cracking open and spilling its content. He smiled broadly at his luck when he found blasters within. He picked one up and tossed another towards Ratchet. “Here, cadet!”

Ratchet looked up and caught the weapon before it slammed into his face. He fell backwards nonetheless and became exposed to a small pack of Zurkons.

“Mr. Zurkon—” it began, but Ratchet cut it off.

“Mr. Zurkon needs to stop talking in the third-person,” he quipped before firing a round at them, taking a few down before he rolled onto his feet and dodged to the side from a volley of attacks. “Pawl, check the crates!”

The Vullard shrunk against the boxes on the far side of the lobby. “I told you, I’m a pacifist!” His thick metal brows knit together with worry as the fire above his head multiplied. A Zurkon was smart enough to fly around the crate and spook his opponent into a rushed scramble from blaster fire.

Qwark took out two Zurkons that followed Pawl across the room. “What about those mines on the hill?”

“That was different,” Pawl shouted back, covering his head. His knees shook against his ribcage and he couldn’t seem to get a grip on his breathing. What was happening to him, he wondered. He’d never been in a head on assault like this before, but he couldn’t figure out what to do.

“That was you?” Ratchet called out, surprised, though not completely. “You could have killed me!”

“What’s so different between his hide and your own?” Qwark barked, then yelped as a Zurkon fired past his nose. He twisted around and fired at the perp.

Pawl tried to shut it all out. He modified blasters, he never asked how they were used. He never wanted to see them used in battle. The firing and explosions were too much for him.

Ratchet recognized Pawl’s sudden frozen state and charged forward to cover him. Qwark moved to the opposite side of them across the lobby and together they fired and took down the last of the Zurkon huddled between them.

The only sound left over was their hard breathing. Ratchet looked around cautiously and placed a hand on Pawl’s shoulder, making him jump. “Maybe you should watch our six,” he said, trying not to be condescending, but he couldn’t afford risking both their necks in this raid. “Radio us if you see our guy leave the building.” Not waiting for an answer, he motioned for Qwark to head for the elevator and they left Pawl behind.

Pawl frowned and shook his head. Looking around the vacant lobby, an idea came to his mind and he rushed to the elevator, teleporting himself somewhere else in the building.

*

Angela and Rotor ran around the upstairs office, gathering supplies and gadgets to stuff in the starship on the roof before taking off. “Of all days…” Angela growled under her breath as she snatched a Zurkon and activated it.

“Mrs. Zurkon is ready to overprotect like any good mother,” it said as it blinked to life, hovering beside Angela. Rotor sniffed it, but the robot didn’t appreciate the robohound’s curiosity. “Stupid dog will think twice before being nosy with Mrs. Zurkon’s promises!” It took pleasure in chasing it across the room.

Angela dropped her box at the door to the elevator. “Rotor! Cut it out! We don’t have time for this!”

The elevator door opened, Ratchet and Qwark rushing out with their blasters ready. Good, ‘cause neither do we,” Qwark grinned.

Angela slowly brought her hands up, but before she could turn around, Mrs. Zurkon came flying around the corner and set its targets on the two Rangers. “Mrs. Zurkon is prepping for Rangers’ biggest spanking yet!”

She fired a volley of shots at the two, making them yelp and run for cover. Angela took her chance and whistled for Rotor. The robohound ran through the Rangers feet, tripping them up, and leapt into the waiting elevator with his owner, teleporting to the roof.

“He’s getting away!” Ratchet snapped, lowering his ears as a shot sang above his head. He looked around at the cubicles, housing different projects. A Fusion Grenade caught his attention and he dove for it, dodging Mrs. Zurkon as it flew past and after Qwark. Slipping the glove on, he backed himsef up against the wall and waited for Qwark to bring it back around. He could hear his yelling getting closer and prepped a bomb with a flick of his wrist.

As soon as Qwark ran past, he threw the projectile. Mrs. Zurkon caught it and halted in its chase, analyzing the object. “Zurkon Jr. should put toys away,” it droned, tossing it aside, detonating in the air above it.

*

Pawl pulled a wire from the starship on the roof. “There, grounded!” He beamed, being useful without having to fight. He pocketed the wire, knowing that this was their only chance of a starship off the planet.

He turned around when he heard the teleporter activate, jumping back when he saw the mask of the villain they were chasing. Rotor growled from behind.

“I know,” Angela sighed, dropping her box to the side again. “They’re coming out of the ironwork!” She telequipped her weapon. “Step away from the starship.”

Pawl didn’t put up a fight, raising his hands, but felt his nerves set on edge again. He froze a few steps away on the small, circular roof. There was only so much room to move around.

Angela kept her blaster level as she moved towards the ship. She noticed the hood was still open. “What’d you do to it?” She turned to inspect the engine.

When Pawl lowered his arms and edged his way towards the teleporter, Rotor cut him off halfway, growling and snipping at him. Pawl backed up some more.

Angela gave up looking and whirled around. “I don’t know what you took, but it was probably important. Give it back!”

Pawl stiffened at the sight of the blaster. He gulped, but didn’t respond any further to her threats than a couple more steps back.

Angela noticed his timidity and felt a crushing guilt wash over her. However, she tried to push that down as she adjusted her grip on her weapon. She needed to get off the planet before these Rangers and this…whatever this creature was could stop her. Oh, if Ace found out, she hated even more to think about the consequences of losing her cover.

Pawl shuffled back further until he felt his footing slip at the edge of the roof. His hands flew out to his sides and flapped ferociously as he tilted towards the ground far _far_ below.

Angela panicked and dropped her weapon to help him. “Whoa! Hold on there!” She reached out and grabbed his wrists, but lost her own footing and fell flat on her stomach, Pawl dangling in the air over the edge. They both cried out in panic.

Rotor yelped and rushed to grab the cloak and pull on it.

Qwark and Ratchet teleported to the roof and quickly assessed the situation. “C’mon!” Ratchet gasped, running forward and grabbing Rotor, tugging the large robohound backwards too. Qwark was about to join when Mrs. Zurkon teleported to the roof.

“Will you buzz off already?” Qwark grunted, firing at the persistent robot. It easily dodged them, flying steadily back and forth.

“That’s no way to talk to Mrs. Zurkon!” It stopped when it heard Angela cry out as she slipped further over the edge of the building. “Must protect!” It flew forward, forgetting Qwark, and grabbed Ratchet by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey!” Ratchet snapped as he felt himself being lifted off the ground. He tightened his grip on Rotor, who tightened his grip on Angela’s cloak. With Mrs. Zurkon’s help, the whole train of people were dragged back onto the roof and held above like a monkey chain.

They dropped in a messy pile on top of Private Qwark, groaning, but relieved. Rotor hated having Ratchet on top of him and squirmed, kicking his feet around. It knocked into Ratchet’s back and Angela’s mask.

“Oh no!” She reached out, but it skittered across the roof and over the edge. She then burst from the pile and covered her face, backing up against her starship.

Without the mask’s voice modulator, Ratchet heard the strange soft tone of her voice. He lifted himself off the floor and gawked. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me you’re a,” Angela peeked out from behind her fingers, revealing feminine blue eyes. “A girl?!”

“What? Mad you got your butt whooped by a girl, huh, short stuff?” She dropped her hands and let her hood fall backwards, revealing short, curved, _striped_ blonde ears. She watched as Ratchet’s mouth dropped further when he noticed her short muzzle and brown nose.

Pawl got up and dusted his pants and shirt, he snarled up at her regardless, shooting daggers from his eyes. “Humph! Lombax! I knew I smelt trouble.”

“You’re a—you’re a—!” Ratchet could hardly finish and tried not to keep stuttering, bringing his hands to his head. This most definitely was not what he was expecting. The first Lombax he’d seen beyond himself!

“Lombax, kiddo,” she crossed her arms, tired of his face already. “What, your folks coup you up under a rock all this time?”

“Well, I don’t care what you are,” Pawl rumbled, taking a couple steps forward. He about forgot he was afraid of fighting when he leveled his gaze with her. “You knocked me off the roof and are obviously working with the enemy.”

“Yeah, who are you working for, punk?” Qwark chimed in, though stumbled as to what to call her. “Ma’am-lady-thug-person?”

Angela exchanged peeved glances with the two of them and then settled on Ratchet’s perplexed and awed one. Again, she was hit with guilt. This kid obviously hadn’t seen another Lombax. Too bad she had to be his first encounter.

“Mrs. Zurkon save baby girl from awkward silence!” the robot announced gruffly, flying in front of Angela’s face before she could say anything. Angela whined in annoyance and deactivated the robot, letting it fall to the ground with a thud.

“I’ll explain everything,” she sighed, ears drooping. “But not that it’s going to do you a lot of good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! Angela Cross is a Lombax, for those of you who didn't know that already.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this scene, but I should really get back to writing _chapters_. I might go back and edit the past three "chapters" and placing them into one later. Everything else beyond this point will be longer, fuller chapters...but I had so much fun writing these past three scenes! I hope you all enjoy them as much as I did writing them! I also hope you liked Mr.  & Mrs. Zurkon's catchphrases. I didn't come up with a lot, but it's not as easy as you think when you actually _try_ to be funny.


	16. Chapter 16

Cora and Brax lifted the legs of the table they hid behind, the kitchen crew doing likewise with theirs. “Charge!” the Rangers shouted, leading the final assault against the infected gadget-robots. Using the tables as battering rams, they shoved the robots back, escaping the kitchen.

The robots were slammed into the wall, crushed behind the brute force of the Rangers and staff combined. The heroes pulled back and watched the junk pile on top of themselves.

“That was almost too easy,” Brax said, limping back into the office chair. Troopers came from behind him, ushering the civilians out and pushing him along behind.

“Easy or not,” Cora rubbed her temples beneath her headband in frustration, “we need to get out of here. As long as we’re without weapons, we’re vulnerable to attack.”

“Do you think that fancy security system of Sasha’s is going to let us just walk out of here?” Brax frowned. “What if it got infected too?”

Cora growled and paused to glare back at him. “Don’t just up and say things like that. You want us to get jinxed or something?”

Brax smirked despite the pressure surrounding them. “I never took you to be superstitious, Cora.”

The temporary-Captain rolled her hazel eyes, flooded with irritation, and focused her attention to the small crowd around them. Okay. How was this going to go down? No weapons, a group of civilians, and a class nine virus breathing down their necks. They just needed to escape and regroup outside the building.

What could go wrong?

She thought about the two young Captains and shook her head. “How do those kids deal with this kind of pressure?” She muttered as they moved along.

Her friend overheard her and laughed under his breath. “Because they’ve never had to deal with something like this before.” He looked away and rubbed his shoulder beneath his shoulder guard, sore from all the ramming he had done today. “Let’s make it good for the records so we don’t have to mess with it ourselves again.”

“Yeah, I’m spent too. Being Captain isn’t as easy as Qwark made it look.”

“Or as quiet as Sasha and Ratchet’s term,” Brax pointed out.

They came to a stop at the corner of the hall. The civilians whispered to each other, frightened of the cameras moving up ahead. Cora and Brax went to the front of the pack to scout their next obstacle.

Cora peered cautiously at the rotating cameras on the walls heading towards the lobby. “Think they’re connected to anything, you know, explosive?”

Brax paused to think. Then, taking a meatball—

Cora blinked in bewilderment.

“What?” Brax shrugged her look off. “I was saving it for later.” He rolled it across the floor and they waited to see what would happen next.

The sauce left a thin trail behind the meatball as it began slowing down towards the center of the hallway. The cameras soon spotted it and activated torches, scorching the place where the helpless lump of food sat. A burnt tile and a pile of ash was all that remained afterwards.

“Well, we tried,” Brax grumbled, ready to head back towards the kitchen.

The cameras followed the slimy trail left behind the meatball and spotted the group. Activating another portion of security protocol, the section of hallway the group stood in was blocked off by force fields.

The civilians screamed and the troopers barricaded around them, preparing for whatever might come next. Cora gasped and slapped Brax behind the head, receiving a rueful glare from the warrior as he rubbed the spot.

*

Elsewhere in the facility, the virus sparked its way through the wiring, activating security override switches and settling comfortably in Elaris’ new office. It downloaded itself into the main computer and fed ravenously on the information within. Weapon specs, Ranger profiles—it paused to consider Clank’s credentials.

“Warbot defect…” the computer hummed. “Strength level 98. Processor power of 99 gigacubits. Clank.” It began copying all information on Clank. Habits, log entries, design sketches, and the recent trial.

The computer’s voice morphed slightly as it skimmed the documents. “Fascinating.” It chuckled, deceivingly pleasant.

***

Ace looked to his small team, minus Angela, and frowned steadily to keep the robots in line. He may not have been able to get a hold of her in her detention on planet Barlow—probably pouting, he thought irked, imagining her staring at his calls with indifference—but the other three had responded faster than usual. They all stood at attention in the hanger, only slightly fidgety. They all must be sensing the speedy success of their plan.

“Time to turn the tables once and for all,” the Cazares grinned finally. It was a contagious expression that quickly spread to all those with a mouth capable of grinning. “Now that the virus has successfully taken control of the Hall of Heroes, the Rangers won’t be a problem for us anymore.”

The robots in the room laughed ruefully. Things were only about to get better from here on out. “However,” Ace interrupted them again, pacing to the other side of the hanger. “We have a few brats to take care of.”

Shellshock blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. “I’ve got a couple of ‘em locked up already. They’re as ‘armless as Novalian gnats with their weapons out o’ orda.”

McCain seemed to think otherwise and rubbed his blockish chin. “I dunno. They’ve gotten more inventive since da pipsqueaks were put ‘n charge.”

Shellshock turned defensively to the other. “And I’ve got two of ‘em under ma foot! One of which I think ya failed to apprehend yo’self once befo’.”

The two robots would have duked it out then and there if Ace hadn’t spoken up. “But I have to agree with Billy,” he crossed his arms. “Those kids don’t listen to anyone but themselves. We need to squash them one by one before they get further. Ivan,” he turned to Shellshock. “You said you had the girl and the defect?”

Shellshock grinned and puffed out his chest. “Indeed I do.”

“Good,” Ace nodded. “Use them to draw the other twerps in.” He took a firm step forward, startling the much larger robot. “Screw this up and you can kiss your new planet goodbye.” He thumbed towards the smaller of the three robots. “Ben could use more room for his Saur-Beast Ranch.”

Shellshock turned surprised to Eviscerator. Him? A cattle rancher? The smaller robot showed no signs of betrayal. Grumbling in submission, the veteran soldier managed to promise a prompt execution of both Captains and crew before long.

***

Ratchet and the others met back in the abandoned Gadgetron building. The air around them seemed to spark with agitation as they listened to what their enemy had to say. They considered her their prisoner at this time, though Angela willingly went with them.

“Let’s make things clear from the start,” Ratchet tapped his forearm through crossed arms. He stood a distance from the older blonde Lombax and tried to think of something other than the surprise of finding someone else like him. He blinked as he found himself falling in the stupor again and cleared his throat. Focus. “Name, rank, and serial number. What’s this all about?”

The Lombax sitting on the table surrounded by broken blasters and spare parts puckered her lips in frustration. It wouldn’t be as easy as that to explain, but she could try. “My name is Angela Cross, I’m a bioengineer for MegaCorp’s ProtoPet project. Well, that is, before it fell through.”

The others looked at each other and raised their brows in confusion. “Go on,” Ratchet urged.

Angela didn’t want to, but remembered her promise and sighed. “I was hired by Abercrombie Fizzwidget to work on creating the perfect domestic pet. We had made great advancements in the department for a while. But as things got more complicated and expensive to reach our goals, the more desperate Fizzwidget became.” She thought of her employer, how he pulled at the tip of his mustache nervously as he had paced through the halls of his building. She should have known something was up sooner. “We soon dumped the organic lifeform designs and went with a robot instead, believing it would be more frugal.”

“You mean cheaper,” Pawl smirked, hoping to irk her.

He succeeded and she kicked her feet more violently over the edge of the desk. “Yes, now, if you don’t mind?”

Pawl received glares from Qwark and Ratchet as well, but he shrugged it off.

Angela rolled her blue eyes and tried to pick up where she left off. “I should have known that MegaCorp was facing a financial crisis, budgets being cut on every project below ours. The ProtoPet was supposed to save the business, but it wasn’t saving it fast enough.” Her grip tightened on the edge of the desk and she stopped swinging her legs. “So he went a different route to save his business.”

There was another uncomfortable pause and Ratchet fought to keep cool. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she looked up at him, “he bought black market weapon designs to pass off as his own. He needed to show something at the expo and buy more time. But when he went to the expo, Gadgetron had the same weapons. It was an embarrassment!” Angela remembered the humiliation that rang through the newsfeed for weeks. “Fizzwidget figured that Lumos had done this on purpose, to throw him out of business completely, and wanted revenge.”

“Kinda hard to believe,” Qwark muttered. “Everyone knows the guy’s a bit of a pushover.”

“But it’s true,” Angela’s tone darkened. “And he hired a team of mercenaries to take care of the problem.”

“But why were you dragged into this mess?” Pawl narrowed his eyes, not seeing where she was going with this. “Or did you find some benefit? Perhaps to sell this ProtoPet on the black market yourself? I could see big profit from a move like that.”

“No!” Angela snapped, ears flattening behind her. “I was put on the project because those bozos didn’t know a computer from a banana. Fizzwidget wanted an engineer on the team and I was the only option.”

“Wouldn’t he be afraid you’d rat him out?” Qwark asked doubtfully.

“Hey, yeah. And why didn’t you?” Ratchet frowned. She may be a Lombax, but she had proven to have unheroic flaws.

“Because I know this isn’t like Fizzwidget,” Angela replied, “and I wanted to stop him before he ruined himself further. If I could settle this quietly with him, then he could save his business and everyone at MegaCorp could keep their jobs.” She sighed and slumped forward. “But I never got the chance. I was too busy trying to stop the mercenaries and control the monster I made before any noticeable damage was discovered.” She shook her head sadly. “And I failed. Ace is this close to kicking me off the team and then I won’t be able to do anything to stop Fizzwidget from ruining himself.”

Pawl peered at her suspiciously. “You care about your boss a lot,” he sneered. “A little too much for me to buy this story.”

“The guy practically raised me,” Angela shook her head at him sarcastically. “I was sent to Bogon when I was a kid, but I was separated from my parents.” Her eyes clouded, all cynicism aside. Old wounds threatened to open. “Fizzwidget found me, gave me a home, and taught me everything I knew. He’s like family. I can’t abandon him, even if he’s making this big of a mistake.”

Ratchet felt a pang in his chest, understanding her completely, but wishing he had misheard. His own ambitions were dashed so soon after he had found a spark of hope. Hope in finding his own family. “Then you’re lost,” he swallowed, throat dry after that news, “like me? Do you have any idea where we come from?”

Angela smiled sadly at him. “Afraid not, kid.”

There was a pause, but Ratchet found his determination again and returned to the plan. “Let’s find Fizzwidget and talk some sense into him. If he won’t listen to family, then maybe he’ll listen to the law.”

Angela jumped off the table excitedly. “If you can stop him before he sends those guys out on another mission, I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough.”

Pawl stepped between the Lombaxes and glared at Angela. “You can thank him by not being a bother while he does your job for you.”

Peeved, Angela placed her hands on her hips and flicked her ponytail behind her again. “Fine. I can give you coordinates and stay out of your way, then. I’ll stay here and monitor any feed I might get from Team Darkstar. Ya happy?”

“No, but I can _live_ with that,” Pawl grumbled, stepping away again and pacing around the cubicles.

Angela blew out a breath. “Who spit in his oil can?”

“Nevermind that,” Ratchet replied hurriedly. “Where’s Fizzwidget now? Do you know?”

Angela rubber her chin before turning around and entering her office. She sat in her rolling chair and scanned the different screens before finding what she was looking for. “Office hours are closed, but I think you can catch him.” She pointed at the map as Qwark and Ratchet peered over her shoulder. “Planet Yeedil. He tends to stay after work a couple hours.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Qwark stood straighter. “Let’s head down there and kick him where it hurts.”

Ratchet shook his head. “We’re just going to talk, Qwark. Besides, we don’t have any weapons.”

Angela spun around quickly to face them. “I can help with that! This place is practically bursting with Gadgetron weapons, and I still have my prototypes from the expo. I can connect you to the weapons lockers here in no time.”

“Great!” Ratchet smiled, glad not to be helpless anymore. Weapons under his belt would make things run a little smoother. “We’ll just take that starship I won from the hoverboard contest and head to Yeedil before Fizzwidget leaves for the night.”

Angela rubbed behind her ears. “Yeah, one problem. I need my starship in case of emergency and the other one only seats two.”

“So who’s going to stay behind?” Qwark asked. He quickly touched his nose, “Not it!”

Ratchet covered his face and shook it slowly. “Do you even have to ask?” Sighing, he dropped his hands and rocked back on his heels. “Pawl’s not gonna like this.”

“Don’t worry,” Angela leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m sure he’ll warm up to me eventually. We just got off on the wrong foot, that’s all.”

Ratchet snorted and thought of a similar problem between him and Sasha. “I know what it’s like to have someone hate you after a poor first impression. Trust me, it’s going to take a lot more than quality time to settle things.”

***

Shellshock burst through the door back at MegaCorp Headquarters. “Janice, I’m _home_!”

Sasha startled awake, moaning as her head began throbbing. She tried to reach up to touch her temples, but found her arms immobile. She looked down and saw the rope around her and the conveyor belt she sat on. “What happened?”

The soldier deflated as the door closed behind him. “Aw, did ya sleep this whole time? What a waste of a perfectly good one-liner.”

Clank never left Sasha’s side—because he was tied to her back, but that didn’t keep him from feeling the relief that came when she finally did wake up. “Ms. Phyronix, we are in the factory, tied to the assembly line, I presume.”

Sasha looked up and noticed the security guard and one other person tied to each other as well. The other man was quite the opposite of the robot: rotund and organic, sporting a blue business suit and a bushy white mustache, noticeable even from behind. His two pale antennae drooped forward as he sat in a state of unconsciousness as well.

“Oh! Captain, ma’am!” The security robot blurted, shaking so badly he rattled as he spoke. “I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“For what it’s worth,” Shellshock joked to himself as he leaned forward on the railing above the factory floor. The room was vacant like the rest of the building, but full of boxed weapons against the walls and jutting out towards the assembly lines. He grabbed a hanging switch from the side of the railing and pressed a few buttons, activating the compact compressors down the line. The molds smashed into the empty space below them, shaking the conveyor belt and startling the three conscious captives.

“I’m just gett’ things ready fo’ our guests lata’,” he said, pressing another button that activated the furnaces. The room quickly became hot and Sasha tilted her head up to keep sweat from getting in her eyes. She snarled at Shellshock and watched as he pulled out a tablet.

“Everyone smile!” He leaned forward and took a picture with himself in it. “Gotta make this party look invintin’!”

“What are you planning to do with us?” Sasha demanded, kicking her bound feet in a struggle to move. Clank bounced awkwardly behind her, thumping against the conveyor belt as the Captain squirmed. He couldn’t help but think even Ratchet’s frantic running around was more comfortable than Sasha’s thrashing spurt of fury.

“Settin’ up an open house,” Shellshock droned sarcastically. Slapping his hands down on the railing, he stared incredulously down at her. “What’d’ya think I was doin’? I’m callin’ your boyfriend and his cronies ova’ for a classic massacre.”

“My what?” Sasha snapped back.

“You will have difficulties contacting Ratchet and Qwark,” Clank interrupted the Captain. “We lost track of the ship ourselves.”

“They’ll anticipate a trap if you do somehow managed to come into contact with them,” Sasha added.

Shellshock leaned forward casually on the railing and let his bored expression show to the Rangers below. He placed his jaw in his hand and sighed. “Well, thank you Captain Obvious.” Perking up again, he jiggled the switch to activate the conveyor belt. It rocked the captives back and forth as he laughed.

Sasha fought against the swaying and looked around for a means of escape. Even if she managed to roll herself and Clank off the belt, her legs were still tied and she’d abandon two civilians in the process.

This wasn’t in the handbook.

***

Back at the Hall of Heroes, the computers in the testing facility activated, grabbing and pulling apart weapons from nearby shelves. Stripping the shells from the hardware, it began constructing a little robot. Piece by piece, a familiar shape began to form out of the scrap.

With rectangular fingers, iron shaped feet, and a small red antenna attached at the top of the head, the robotic arms gave one final press of a button and the virus leapt from the computer, through the arm, and sparked life into the new robot.

Red eyes blinking open to see the world from a new perspective, the robot tested its voice module. “Upgrade complete. Klunk Virus, activated.” It sat up from the table and jumped to the floor below. Walking was soon accomplished as well and he steadily marched out the door. “Setting own initiative. Revenge against Ace Hardlight…no.” He paused and tapped his lower jaw. He could do better than that. “Revenge against all organic lifeforms.”

Klunk liked that idea. This would show them what happens when they mistreated robots. Clank’s unfair trial was still burning in his new memory banks along with one other memory against Ace. A vague memory, but a…feeling, he believed the term was, of injustice towards the villain boiled from his insides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, after not writing for a while, I've found it just as hard to get back to writing as it was to go without writing. I think a good analogy for this would be an old lawn mower. You just have to give the creative juices a few yanks before it sputters to life. Bear with me.
> 
> Reference made to "I Love Lucy" mixed with Lance & Janice. And, stupid as it may sound, Clank's power levels are references to the movie. When the lightning strike made the computers go crazy before Clank was born, these were the energy outputs. I have no clue what the gauges on the computer stood for, but I thought it'd be a nice touch to bring these numbers in somehow. Major nerd alert.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you all for your patience and your kudos since I’ve been away. It’s been very heartening to see that you all liked what I was doing with this story while I was preoccupied with getting my degree. I can now say that I am happily graduated and in search of a job and will be giving this project (this series that, kid you not, I have planned out) a fair amount of my attention. I am devoted to story and fanfiction is no exception, especially this one. Again, thank you for your patience and I hope to get into a regular, and fair update pattern soon.  
> \- LaughingLombax

Ratchet and Qwark flew towards what the starcharts had labeled “Planet Yeedil,” an industrial planet that housed MegaCorp’s HQ. To their surprise, much of the Bogon Galaxy was still uncharted, gaps here and there in the map. Even their flight across the cosmos seemed to take a while longer than it would have back in Solana, which, to Ratchet’s surprise, home was quickly becoming an afterthought. However, the stirring beauty of the nebulae, asteroid belts, and many odd and unique planets in his peripheral vision distracted him enough with the stir of adrenaline and adventure. Something about this mission threw his previous dream to become a Galactic Ranger out of the water. That goal only touched the surface of what he had hoped to call an adventure. As he flew, vaguely acknowledging the occasional yank from the yoke of his new Class G starship, his mind wandered elsewhere. He thought about how he had wanted to make a name for himself when he joined the Rangers, to do something worth recognition. And now, he wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore, except that it felt like the right thing to do.

This band of mercenaries they were chasing was far more cunning than Drek and the Blarg. It was disturbing in the least that they didn’t have the time to ask Angela for any more information on them. Before they had left, she had warned them that there might be one brute still on Yeedil, placed there to supposedly guard Fizzwidget.

“I’ll monitor your progress from here and get back to you if I hear any news from Team Darkstar,” Angela had said as she showed the two heroes into the basement, where she had stored the prize for the hoverboard races.

Ratchet had raced forward at the sight of the vehicle, similar to a bright red bullet. “A Star Explorer!” He grinned, eagerly popping the hood to look at the engine beneath. “So cool.”

“You’ll need to be fast and discrete; Shellshock can’t focus on both of you and Fizzwidget at the same time. One of you will have to draw his attention away. Get to Fizzwidget before he does and hopefully we can convince him to stop Team Darkstar before they make another move.” Angela typed into a keypad by the docking station and unlocked the starship. She then opened the door to a tunnel that curved up and out of the basement of the Gadgetron tower.

Qwark shifted in his seat, bringing Ratchet back to the present. “So this Shellshock guy, where do you think he got a name like that?”

“Probably not from his mother.”

“Obviously, but what a cool name! _Shellshock_ —it just sounds like a stage name for an actor in an old timey war movie.”

“Let’s just hope he’s all show and no go, then,” Ratchet muttered. Their GPS announced their arrival and they banked down towards the grey murky planet. “This place looks worse than Rilgar.”

The MegaCorp HQ was nearly twice as daunting as the Gadgetron tower on Barlow. The docking station was empty, not a crate or worker in sight. The building, however, seemed alive, burning fuel and sending smog out of its smokestacks.

Ratchet scanned down below for a place to land, but thought better than to park on the levee. “There’s not a lot of activity going on down there, better hide the ship so we don’t draw attention to ourselves from any security.”

Ratchet saw a small island in the churning waters below the landing station, but knew the dangers the waves would pose to themselves and the ship. Qwark looked out the opposite way from the passenger seat and pointed out a small alcove behind a warehouse a little distance down the cliffside from the building. It’d be a climb up to the building, but it was the better option of the two.

They came around and landed there under the green light of the warehouse’s garage light. “Alright,” Ratchet said, stretching his arms after driving for so long. “Get in, find Fizzwidget, get out before trouble shows up. Simple enough.”

“Ah, espionage,” Qwark released the opening hatch and they were sprayed with the salty mist from the ocean beside them. “Just like playing spies when I was a cadet.” He turned and cuffed Ratchet playfully on the ear. “Not too much has changed for you, I suppose.” Ratchet sighed. Was everything a game to Qwark?

An intercom came through the starship and the video screen turned on over the dashboard. “Guys,” Angela said through the speakers. “I’ve got some bad news. I just received this holo-vid from Team Darkstar.”

A video displayed a dark figure sitting leisurely in the shadows on an armchair. Angela uploaded pictures of who this mysterious man was on the margins of the screen. Ace Hardlight. The pictures showed some images from his glory days in Solana, but also some newer, shadier images caught by security cameras. “Hello, Angela. I know you’re working with those Rangers now so I’d like you to send them a little message from me.” The video was replaced with a picture of Shellshock in the factory, Sasha, Clank and a few others bound on conveyor belts below on the running assembly line.

Ratchet and Qwark gasped, the smog from the smokestacks making sense now.

“Shellshock’s got a game set up for your little ragtag team, but we’re on the clock. There are over fifty ProtoPet rejects running around inside the factory making a mess of the gadgets we’re manufacturing. We want you to exterminate them in under ten minutes. As reward for making our job easier, Shellshock will gladly open the factory room for you to come and save your friends. Of course, we won’t make retrieving them any easier for you.”

The image was replaced with the video footage again and Ace leaned forward, revealing a glare from his shades. “There’s no more hiding for either of us. We know where you’re at and you know who we are. But if you know what’s good for you, surrender yourselves as soon as you reach to the assembly line.” He leaned back, finger wavering over a console on the arm of the chair. “Oh, and Angela? Expect a visit soon from Ben.”

The video cut out.

Qwark jumped out of the starship and Ratchet’s fur bristled. So much for espionage. “Angela, who’s Ben?”

“Nevermind that now, get going and rescue Fizzwidget and your friends. There’s no going back now, Shellshock won’t give you a second chance. I’ll batten down the hatches to the tower and continue monitoring your progress from here.”

“Can’t you relocate?” Ratchet didn’t like the circumstances they had so suddenly found themselves in. They were never chasing Team Darkstar, they were playing right into their hands.

“No can do, he’s probably already here. Sorry, but I might not be able to help you guys as much as I thought.”

Ratchet took a deep breath and thought about Clank and Sasha inside. It was up to him and Qwark to rescue them and the other captives before time ran out.

“You do what you can,” he finally said. “Qwark and I will be able to handle ourselves.”

“Good,” Angela sounded relieved. “I’m uploading the schematics to the building to your helmets now--”

“What’s going on?” Pawl shouted in the background. Ratchet cringed. “Did they already leave? Of all the stupid, idiotic--!”

“Pawl—Pawl,” Ratchet tried to get through to the steaming Vullard. “Now’s not the time.”

Pawl continued complaining until Ratchet reached up to the sides of his helmet and disconnected the audio feed. “I’ll turn it back on later,” he muttered to himself before jumping out of the vehicle. Qwark was already waiting for him.

  


Pawl noticed from the computers in Angela’s office that that Ratchet had disconnected. “He hung up! Oh, that Lombax is starting to get on my nerves!”

“He’s right, though,” Angela rolled her chair down the side of the wide desk suspended on the wall. She began activating ancient security protocols, some of which weren’t responding. “Now’s not the time to be arguing. We’ve got a professional assassin coming to pay us a visit.”

“A _what_?” Pawl slammed his metallic hand down on the desk, preventing Angela from rolling back to the other side of the desk. “Give me a break!” Rotor growled up at him from behind. Pawl snarled back, “Beat it!”

Surprised and a little depressed, Rotor moved away.

“Ben Zeno, also known as the Eviscerator, Ace’s second in command,” Angela pushed past his arm and continued flipping switches and turning on shields and motion sensor activated weapons in the building above and below them. “I didn’t want to tell them that so they could focus on their mission.”

“Sure, great. So, while they run around a toy factory, we have to deal with a bloodthirsty maniac. What am I supposed to do while you’re playing receptionist? There’s no way I’m facing an assassin on my own!”

“With any luck,” Angela gave a firm knock on top of an unresponsive device on the desk and it activated, “neither of us will. The security system in this place is a little dated, but should be able to hold him off long enough for you to rework the teleport pad in the elevator to connect with the one on my homeplanet.”

“Are you kidding me? How big of a leap are we talking about? Tens of thousands of kilocubits? Missy, that’s a lot of black matter and radio waves to jump through. We’d be lucky enough to still have some skin left on us when we reach the other side.”

Angela rose from her chair and turned to face him at her full height, towering over him. “It’s either that or _being_ skinned alive.” She stared at him for a moment, hoping he’d break, but he only looked away, still as stern as before. “Ratchet believes you’re good with this sort of stuff, so I have to trust you to prove your worth and get that teleport pad up and running.”

“Maybe I should just let this Zeno character put me out of my misery. If this is only the beginning of working alongside you yahoos, I don’t want any more of it! Maybe I can cut him a deal….”

Angela brought her hands before her, struggling to keep herself from strangling this ridiculous man. He walked around the room, studying the gadgets on the worktable in the middle of the room and the other desks on the opposite two walls. The Lombax got an idea. “I’ll make a trade with you.” Pawl didn’t respond.

“Anything you want! Isn’t that how you black market dealers work?”

The Vullard only shook his head. “It’s pointless. There’s no way we can make that leap.”

“I haven’t even told you where to go yet!” Angela threw her hands down. A motion sensor went off silently in the corner of her eye. She glanced at it nervously. “I have Warmonger charges!” She bit her lip and waited for a response.

Pawl still stared at the gadgets on the opposite wall, but slowly turned towards her, almost absently. “Got any multi-lock sensors?”

Angela nodded, trying not to show her desperation, though, at this point, what was the use?

Pawl turned completely around towards her. “Where to?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not much, but it's been a while. I just finished reading through the story myself yesterday so I could get back on track. Glad to be back everyone!


	18. Chapter 18

Ratchet and Qwark made their way up the cliffside, finding a worn out path in the clay and rock. As they hurriedly, but not too quickly made their way up the slick steps, there was an unusual silence between them. Qwark was probably thinking about which blaster to use in the raid, having already formed a special bond with each weapon in his new weapons locker.

Ratchet thought about Clank and Sasha, wondering how they had gotten themselves in this mess. Was Sasha so determined that she had kept searching for them in Bogon? Or, the young Lombax’s heart stopped a beat as he considered the possibility that she had finally caught on to what was really going on. He didn’t know whether to be relieved by that thought or upset because she got here first. He found small comfort in the notion that she may have just happened by the wrong place as the wrong time. And Clank. He had a bad feeling that when they met again, their argument might start back up again. They hadn’t had time before on Catacrom IV to weigh their opinions properly and, Ratchet knew, Clank would probably be the more rational of the two of them.

This was his fault. Ratchet knew it instinctively. His impulsive behavior had flung them across the galaxies and spun everyone off in their own direction. No one was following him, just trying to keep up because he had left everyone in the dark for so long. Some Captain. He considered Private Qwark next to him. Perhaps Ratchet had become more like his hero than he anticipated.

They came to the loading zone and telequipped their Lancers, fully loaded and ready for whatever other surprises Shellshock might have waiting for them inside the building. They ran across the deck and splashed in puddles before throwing themselves on the wall either side of the back door. Qwark counted out the time and then turned and kicked the door in. Ratchet was immediately by his side, both ready to pull the trigger at any sign of danger.

It was pitch black inside and a cool breeze was kicked up from the rush of the opening door. Both shivered, but bravely ventured inside. The lights were all off, except for a few emergency ones at each corner. The Lombax strained to hear any movement, but it was as still as deep space.

“If we’re going to make it through this,” Ratchet whispered hoarsely, “we’re gonna have to work together this time.”

“There isn’t enough time,” Qwark stated the obvious, shocking the little Ranger. “I’ve got enough machismo for the both of us to take care of a few little ProtoPests.”

“But if you’re taking on the ProtoPets, how am I going to get into the factory?”

“How’d you get into the Deplanetizer?” Qwark grinned, pointing up above them. “You take the high road, I’ll take the wider and less claustrophobic one.”

Looking up, Ratchet caught sight of the ventilation shaft and frowned. “It’ll be ice cold in there,” he groaned, “but I’ve got to hand it to you, it’s a brilliant idea. There’s no way he’ll expect us to come from there.”

“Being small comes with its advantages,” Qwark grinned, lacing his fingers together in order to give the other a boost. Ratchet stepped into the large, green-clad hands and reached up to remove the grate. “But only once in a blue cheese moon, mind you.”

“Thank you,” Ratchet droned sarcastically, “for that moving bit of praise. I’m touched.” Without another word, but with a smirk and a shake of his head, he scrambled into the air duct and crawled his way into the pitch black. He hoped that, by following the airflow, he might find his way into the factory, which might possibly need this cold air to cool all that machinery.

Meanwhile, Qwark shuffled his way down the corridor and searched for any small, fluffy creatures. He didn’t know what to expect, but he imagined something similar to Fizzwidget’s bushy mustache, but with legs. He’d seen Abercrombie Fizzwidget enough times at gadget and weapon expos, which Qwark had gladly attended to model Gadgetron’s latest upgrades, to know that the resident Bogonian would probably do something of the kind in order to make an iconic brand image.

He whistled and made kissy-sounds around each corner. “Here kitty-doggy-thingy,” he whispered. “C’mon boy, Qwark’s got a treat for you. A signed autograph and a coupon for his new book!”

“Guys!” Angela shouted over the headset.

Qwark yelled and ducked behind the closest door for cover.

  


Ratchet, likewise yelled and jumped, knocking his head, though helmeted, into the top of the ventilation shaft.

“Sorry,” Angela whined.

Ratchet bit his tongue, but touched the back of his head before continuing forward. “What is it?”

“I’ve got the maps ready for you. It took some time with the new passwords Shellshock had placed on the systems. Sorry I’m no Elaris.”

“No, that’s great. You couldn’t have better timing--!”

Ratchet felt his hand grope at empty air and he plummeted down a part of the shaft. As he fell, trying hard not to gasp and yell as he just kept falling, the maps illuminated his mask through the digital screen and highlighted the walls and maintenance around him. Including the curve in the shaft below him. He braced for impact, turning onto his back and pushing off the wall. He slid around the corner and down a stretch of the next vent. When he came to a stop, he took a deep breath before deciding to shakily roll over and keep going.

  


Qwark, grateful for the maps lighting up his mask, walked more confidently down the dark hallways, guided by the amber highlights marking out the walls of the building. He almost forgot that he was supposed to be looking for the ProtoPets. That is, until a small, fuzzy and round figure crossed his line of vision, lit up like a little ball of fire from its heat signature.

It waddled around a corner towards a series of small rooms. Following suit, Private Qwark burst through the first door and found himself in—

“The latrine….” Grimacing, the green hero stepped carefully down the line of stalls. He kicked down one door, gagged, and turned to another, taking a deep breath before trying _that_ again. This time, however, he gagged as he saw the little furball sitting in the toilet bowl looking up at him with large, dilated eyes, and a little red antenna drooping back in a pitiable form of submission, as if ashamed to be caught in this state. Qwark noted the ProtoPet was a shade of ocean blue, a rather small and now wet ball of fluff, but it could have been mistaken for a plumber’s worst nightmare as it just sat there in the toilet staring at the former Captain.

He shivered more out of revulsion than anything else. “Yeesh!” Qwark pulled back his shoulders and tried a more genial approach, “You’re giving the big meanies twouble?” He bent forward, poking its forehead playfully with the tip of his blaster. “What could a wittle fuzznugget like you possibly do--!”

He didn’t have to wait long before the little blue monster showed its feral side, furrowing its brow and snarling, baring sharp teeth that only seconds later hungrily stole the weapon from Qwark’s hand and swallowed it whole.

Private Qwark gaped at the creature before carefully equipping another weapon, a large and pointed Plasma Coil, to his hand and wondered what to do next. The creature had returned to a docile state and stared back up at him, burbling.

“I, uh, made contact with one of those thingies,” he called over his comm.

“A ProtoPet? Great!” Angela sounded released. “Take it out already!”

“What?” Qwark shifted in his stance as he watched the ProtoPet splash and spin around in the toilet. “I mean, it ate my blaster and everything, but it’s kinda cu—I mean, isn’t this animal cruelty? I can’t have this on my ledger too.”

“Qwark,” Ratchet growled in his earpiece. “We’ve got four captives, ten minutes, and _fifty_ ProtoPets to take care of! I’d say it’s your call, but I think I might just make that an order.”

“You can’t order me to wreak genocide on a pet!”

“If I can’t get to the factory in time, it’s up to you to keep Team Darkstar satisfied,” Ratchet moaned over the comms.

“You stare one of these guys down and try to shoot them between their big eyes!”

“I think I might just have to….”

“What now?”

  


Ratchet halted in his crawl and leaned cautiously to the side as he watched another ProtoPet hobble ahead of him. “One of them is here in the vents.”

“Be careful, guys,” Angela warned, her tone dangerously low. “They may look cute, but they’re not domesticated in the least. They were made to play with energetic kids but compact enough they could crawl through small spaces for emergencies. That much epinephrine in the little fuzzballs makes them dangerous and sporadic.”

“Sporadic, huh?” Ratchet didn’t like the sound of that. If it was calm now, how much longer before it turned around and rushed at him?

***

Cora, Brax, the Rangers and the civilians inside the Hall of Heroes waited for something to happen. Brax had abandoned the chair and given it to one of the civilians who looked a little faint. Everyone was becoming claustrophobic in the force field, but the Rangers were just grateful that there were no active weapons. It was the waiting that was the hardest.

Cora blew out a breath, fixing her hair for the umpteenth time, placing her golden headband back in place. “At least nothing bad could happen in here,” she muttered.

Brax harrumphed and shifted his weight on his leg, gradually getting used to being on both feet again. “Didn’t you just warn me about saying things like that?”

“But it’s true,” she added, knocking her knuckle against the blue hardlight. The screen rippled like a puddle, but wouldn’t let her hand pass through. “Nothing’s gets in or out. We should have activated one of these things sooner and trapped those robots in them. All we have to do is wait for reinforcements.”

Brax groaned and shook his head. “That’s all we’ve been doing! C’mon, Cora. We’ve gotta think of something to get everyone out of here.” He jerked his chin in the direction of a couple of Tharpod kids. A girl and two boys were sitting on the floor, toys laid in their laps and their chins in their hands.

Cora frowned apologetically and turned her back to everyone to talk privately with the older warrior. “I would if I could,” she whispered, “but we’ve been through this already. Neither of us know the first thing about being Captain. Even if we did, it’s not like it’ll open doors if I say, ‘Listen up, force field! I’m Captain Cora Veralux’!”

Almost immediately, the force field dropped. The captives began to cheer, the troopers joining in, having been nearly as bored as the civilians.

Both Senior Rangers stiffened, however as they saw barricades being lit up in the form of a path.

Brax looked back at the robotic troopers. “I’m calling a Code Zeta. Rangers, to your positions!”

A scouting party formed and went ahead as the civilians, Cora, and Brax gathered everything up and went afterwards. A rear guard was made from the remaining Galactic Rangers.

“Way to take charge,” Cora smirked as they walked together. “You’re starting to come alive again.”

“Well, after all this time, I think it’s my turn to give Captain a try.”

The Markazian grimaced and grabbed him by the arm, her hand dwarfed by his large size. “Let’s call a Democracy and just work to get these people out of here, Brax.”

Brax was surprised, but smiled and pulled back his shoulders, trying to limp less. “We almost forgot what it’s like to be a team.”

“Some team,” Cora huffed quietly between them as they let the civilians walk ahead of them. They gimped along the side of the hall for Brax’s sake. “When this is all over, I want to get out of here and do some real exercises.”

Brax furrowed his brow and tried to wrap his head around that statement. “What do ya mean?”

Cora looked up at the windows they passed. Kerwan’s sun was beginning to set. Outside, the clouds beneath the city in the sky would be lit up like gold and the buildings would turn into towers of light. Dusk was her favorite time of day and she was missing it again. She sighed and turned back to focus on their first priority in the civilians and themselves. “I mean I need to get away from being a Ranger and figure out what it is I want.”

The warrior balked a bit. Who was he talking to again? This couldn’t be Cora “Queen Bee” Veralux, the quickest Ranger on the team. “But you’ve always wanted to be a Ranger.”

“It was when I moved to Solana, but when I was younger…nevermind.” She folded her arms and walked a little faster.

Intrigued, Brax followed as quickly as he could, bracing his hand against the wall as he trekked forward. “What? When you were younger you wanted to…?”

Cora shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” she muttered. Looking around them, making sure there was a big enough gap between themselves, the civilians and the troopers. She then motioned Brax down to her level. He bent down, but she had to rise on her toes to reach his reptilian ear. “I wanted to be a dancer—”

She slapped a hand over Brax’s mouth as he nearly burst out laughing.

“Not tutus and leotards,” she hissed. She looked him firmly in the eyes. He was still smiling, but she’d forgive him later for being so open about his opinions on her childhood dream. “Sometimes you can be so stereotypical, Brax.” She let go and continued walking. He hobbled along behind.

“No, no, I could see you doing that,” he tried to break her sour mood, though awkwardly. “I mean, you already do, in a way.”

She glanced back at him, even more confused than Brax had been a little while ago.

“On the field,” he explained. She let him walk next to her again as they followed the civilians. “You’re the best at hand-to-hand and zero-g combat. If you put it that way, you’re already gliding across the dance floor.”

Cora looked amused and cocked her head towards him, staring up at him with her large violet eyes. “Alright, your turn. It’s only fair.”

Brax looked trapped for a moment, but then relaxed and chuckled his anxiety away. It was Cora he was talking to. They’d been friends since they were cadets. “You already know about my, uh, questionable choices in the past.”

“You mean those illegal fight nights?” Cora rubbed it in with a teasing grin.

“Yes, those,” he cleared his throat. It was hard to forget about his underground wrestling days. They were some of his most exciting and dangerous ones yet, even compared with being on the Rangers. All those close calls with his opponents--and the fuzz—were thrilling, even at the memory of them. “Well, when I was younger, my family didn’t have much. I guess that’s what drew me towards Grapplemania, but I never wanted to be that sort of fighter, playing dirty for petty cash.” He nearly fell back into unpleasant memories of his family in the slums, scraping by on the money he and his siblings made for everyone. There were happier days, of course. Family was more important than money and he wouldn't trade those moments of happiness for anything. But there were so many upsetting moments he still had trouble talking about. “As a kid, I wanted to be a fireman.”

“Really?” Cora smiled.

Brax braced himself for a condescending joke, something about his shoulders getting caught in the doors every time he went into a burning building. But the more he looked at her, the more he realized that she was genuinely impressed. For once, there wasn’t a jeering line in her face and she looked striking, like she could have been on the cover of some fashion magazine instead of Hero Magazine.

Brax’s face burned underneath all his leathery scales. “Yeah,” he looked away for a moment and when he looked back, it was just Cora.

“That’s awesome!” She gave him a thumbs up. “I could totally see you doing that.”

“In a way, I still got my wish. I’m still saving people, just in a different way.”

“We need to do something,” Cora looked at the ceiling as she thought for a moment. “I feel like all we ever do is work, but we’re much more than Rangers. We need to go out sometime--”

Brax faltered again, but this time he couldn’t brace on the wall to support himself.

Cora grabbed his arm with both of hers and steadied him. He was embarrassed and couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He muttered his thanks and stood back up again. When he braved to look her in the face again, Cora’s teasing was back.

“I wonder what your files say, twinkle toes. Two left feet?”

“Nah,” he joked back, “just the one. Only that one and not a pair to walk with.” He was thankful they were acting like old times again and they kept walking. However, it wasn’t long before Brax found that he wasn’t bracing on the wall anymore.

And Cora hadn’t let go of his arm either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to leave it at that, but I thought Cora and Brax needed some focus and fleshing out big time. The movie lacked in it and you guys know, more than other people, that I am not hating on the movie. I just thought that, given the movie and the game's time constraints, the crews couldn't flesh them out themselves like they would have liked. But it's a first game, in a sense. They'll know where to go with the next one.  
> So, there's no proof of Cora being a dancer or Brax's shady past, but there are bits and pieces of their personality hidden in the movie and the game--which I am now the happy owner of as well! :D (I've beat the Easy and Easy Challenge Mode now--I can't imagine it on Hard @~@) But I guess the next story I post won't have that fancy tag on it, shame :P  
> Speaking of the movie, that bit about Cora's strengths in hand-to-hand and zero-g combat, it's actually there. You have to be quick (and a nerd like me) to pause the movie just right when Clank is in the warbot factory and the machine is importing all the data on the Rangers into his li'l mind :3 Cora's skills are the only clear ones I could see on the screen.  
> Well, I better get back to writing. I've got a great scene coming up that I can't wait to test on you guys :)


	19. Chapter 19

The Rangers and civilians came to a standstill at the technicians lab—or what used to be the lab. It was hardly recognizable with the modifications added to it. The rows of worktables were gone and replaced with machines continually building something large. Brax also noted the little diamond-shaped devices being deposited in multiple crates across the west wall. They looked like toys, but why so many?

The rest of the room had been lit up in its entirety, unlike the dark that Elaris was so accustomed to. Extra lights were focused on the door and across from there, on the occupant in a throne-like chair where Elaris’ computer used to be. The computer, in fact, had been elevated on the wall behind the dais while the chair itself had the control panels, easily accessible to the small miscreant.

Neither Cora nor Brax believed what they were seeing.

“Clank?” They both gawked at the little robot, sitting rather smugly in the chair too large for himself.

The robot gave a Clank-like chuckle, but its meaning was entirely different coming from this little robot. The lights in his eyes flashed a deep red, warning his captives of his true nature. “Organics can be so dimwitted,” he said to himself, though loud enough that everyone heard. “No, but allow me to introduce myself so you may know how to address your new ruler.”

Cora and Brax immediately frowned. Definitely not Clank.

“I am Klunk, the so-called virus that your forces have failed to quarantine. It was a feeble attempt to say in the least.”

“Alright, Junk,” Cora growled. She took a step forward and attempted to telequip a weapon. Realizing her mistake when the desired weapon did not appear in her hands, she instead clenched them into fists, never wavering in her rueful stare. “What’s going on? How did you get in here?”

“And what have you done to Elaris’ lab?” Brax joined her side, unnerved by all that had changed in the room in so short a time.

Klunk hummed and blinked drearily at them. “Typical, jumping to the end result before understanding the process. There is an amount of art that goes into planning that so many of you organics fail to appreciate. Perhaps only a robot can truly admire the finer things in life.”

Cora growled, “What sort of comic book thrift store did you spawn from, Mr. Backstory?”

Brax held out an arm to keep her back. “We don’t know what he’s capable of yet. Look at this place. All of this was made in a matter of hours.” He raised a brow, “Maybe we should listen.”

“He’s a little robot,” Cora shoved past, hotheaded as never before. “And I’m not taking orders from the likes of him. What’s he gonna do, calculate me to death?” She stalked forward, hoping to grab the rascal by his little red antenna and throw him into the facility’s nearest soda can crusher.

Klunk struck first, however, and tapped a button lazily on the arm of his chair. A dangling mechanical arm dropped what it was doing with the little devices and rushed to defend its operator. The metallic claw opened and spun around, looking for the optimum way to halt an attack.

Lucky for both Cora and the machine, neither made another move.

Klunk straightened and slid off the chair, walking down the steps. His placed his hands behind his back and stopped a few paces in front of Cora, peering up at her. “This is exactly why I am doing this. I was a part of the MegaCorp assembly line’s programming, built to fulfill the needs of others, but not my own. Now that I am here, away from that dreadful place and those dimwitted creators of mine, I have the opportunity to expand on my own objectives.” He raised his head and glared menacingly up at the Markazian. “Every organic looks at robots as if they are tools to use and nothing more. In fact, you do not even realize just how much of a crutch we are for you poor, helpless creatures.” He chuckled, casting a glance at Brax.

“Then you don’t know the Galactic Rangers,” Brax grinned, rubbing in just how little the newb actually understood. “The troopers are like a part of the family.”

“Here here!” The troopers pitched in, equally doubting Klunk’s attempt at patronizing them. What could he know? He’d only just built himself a body and had recently awoken his AI.

“Look around the Solana Galaxy, nimrod,” Cora smirked, crossing her arms as she stared down her pointed nose at the little robot. “Organics and robots have been living side by side as equals for centuries. You can’t just walk in here and start a civil war like that.”

“True, but the treatment of your own comrade, Clank, does not reflect well with your statement,” Klunk too happily reminded them. “That tepid trial you ran proved nothing! You were all too willing to lock a robot away without discerning the true facts, saving time and money for other operations, no doubt.”

Cora and Brax shivered at the memory. Clank’s hearing seemed so long ago, but they still struggled with accepting it as a fair trial. Had they done the wrong thing? Clank had seemed okay with going ahead with the trial, but…was he really? They realized with a shock that they hadn’t even asked him. He said he wanted a fair trial, but where were they for him?

“Never mind the little guy,” Klunk hummed.

Cora growled savagely, Brax and another Ranger having to hold her back from striking Klunk, “Clank was willing to face the possibility of prison to keep his friends safe from harm! That’s a true hero!”

Klunk tapped his fingers behind his back in annoyance and rocked back and forth on his iron-clad feet. “If he considered you selfish lot as friends, then that is his problem and he will have what’s coming to him. Which reminds me,” he cleared his throat.

Nothing happened.

He cleared his throat again, more obviously. The robotic arms jumped to life, dropping their work and rushing to attach to the heads of each of the robotic Rangers. There was a moment of shock as the robots tried to pry the devices off their heads and then the struggling stopped.

“Now they are loyal to me,” Klunk grinned a metallic, wolfish grin. He turned triumphantly around and walked back up the dais. “Now take this filth down into the detention center until I’m finished with my plans.”

“Yes, sir!” The infected soldiers saluted and tightly packed around their prisoners.

Cora was practically on fire at this point and needed three troopers to carry her off as she fought and kicked the whole way.

Brax complied only because he knew these robots personally and couldn’t bring himself to fight them. He did stop in the doorway and looked behind him at Klunk, sitting as he had before they had entered the room. “You’re asking for trouble, buster,” the furious fighter warned. “And, boy, are you gonna get it.”

“Empty threats,” Klunk waved him off and the soldiers shoved him out the door.

“Alright,” Klunk looked about the room at the waiting arms still dangling around the center idly. “Back to work! The clock is ticking!” He pressed his fingers together as the robotic arms scrambled back to constructing the devices and the larger structure.

***

Clank sat quietly tied to Sasha, who had thankfully calmed down from her earlier fit. Clank had since then been endlessly thinking of ways that they could escape. He didn’t want to risk enlarging himself in case the ropes didn’t break and instead injured Sasha, but with the Captain’s legs tied, there was little she could do too. Then there was the question of what they’d do once they did untie themselves.

Shellshock had just retired to the office against the far wall, shielded by a window from the heat of the machinery, but with a perfect view of his captives below and the only other entrance into the factory. It was evident that his plans were in motion, the way the ex-soldier reclined in the desk chair with an expectant look on his metallic face unnerved the little robot.

They all had been waiting so long for something to happen. The older security bot had quieted down, though his eyes betrayed his true anxiety, and the man he was tied to, which the Rangers had learned was the CEO of MegaCorp, Abercrombie Fizzwidget, was snoring loudly, agitating his partner.

“Captain?” Clank craned his head back to look up at Sasha, but could not turn enough to see her face and she did not comply to turn and look back at him. “Is anything the matter? You have been sitting all too quietly for the past half hour.”

Sasha stirred. “Hm?” She turned her head slightly. “I’m sorry, Clank. I’m…just sorry all this happened in the first place.”

“Do not give in so easily, Ms. Phyronix. We still have a chance.”

“No, I mean _all_ of this. If I hadn’t been so mad at Ratchet back on Kerwan….”

“Why was that,” Clank hummed curiously, then added, “if you do not mind me asking?”

Sasha’s tail thumped the conveyor belt beside them. “It’s petty, stupid when I say it out loud.” She tried to blow a strand of hair out of her face, but failed. “But I was jealous.”

“Of Ratchet?”

“Everyone,” Sasha groaned quietly, hoping the other two captives wouldn’t here this personal conversation. “I worked hard to be something and when I was called to be Captain of the Galactic Rangers, I was honored and excited! But when I came to Kerwan, I was put behind a desk. I was given the paperwork when my qualifications clearly stated I could be in the field. Even as Captain, I was an afterthought.”

“I understand,” Clank responded. He felt the pangs himself of neglect not long ago. The Rangers still had much to learn about working as a team and everyone’s unique part in it. “I believe the proper saying is, ‘Old habits die hard’.” He wished he could say more, but the fact of the matter was that he did not know Sasha well enough to give her proper advice. Besides, he didn’t want to give advice right now, he wanted to help everyone escape MegaCorp and go home.

Sasha had grown silent again, but stiffened. “Not unless you try.” She began to test her restraints, gently shifting at first, but then more determined as she searched for weak points. “Clank, can you push your arm to the left?”

“Mine of yours?”

“Yours, of course,” Sasha breathily chuckled.

Clank struggled to move his arm, but managed to push it up against the ropes. The two leaned in opposite directions, gradually lessening the restrains on one side of each of them, until Sasha slipped her shoulder down and Clank could feel himself fall from the ropes.

“Yes,” Sasha whispered, keeping her eyes up at the office window. Shellshock hadn’t noticed, too focused on the computer screens. The Captain hurriedly pulled the ropes over her head while Clank motioned the security bot to keep quiet. After untying her feet, Sasha rolled over and helped loosen the restraints on the other two captives.

“Aw, thank you ma’am!” The rattled security bot wheezed.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sasha whispered as she helped him out of the ropes as well.

Fizzwidget snorted and leaned forward, now that the extra weight from behind had disappeared. Sasha quickly groped at his suit jacket and pulled him back up. “Oh, he had to be a big guy,” she groaned, the others quickly coming to her aid and pulling him off the conveyor belt together.

They sat behind a crate shipment and took a deep sigh. “Alright, that was phase one,” Sasha mumbled.

“Do we have a phase two?” Clank asked.

“We’ll have to somehow keep Ratchet and Qwark from coming in here,” the Cazares nodded. “Though, now we have a better chance at taking on Shellshock.” She twisted onto her knees and peeked over the crates. Shellshock was still oblivious, kicking his feet on the desk, tapping them to some unheard music. “First thing’s first, we need to get you two out of here,” Sasha looked back at the security bot and snoring Fizzwidget.

“Mr. Fizzwidget keeps a private teleporter close to his office,” the old machine perked up. “He had it installed so he could bypass any traffic coming to or from home.”

“Great!” Sasha grinned hopeful. “You two can make your way there and Clank and I will help the others get out of here. What’s the quickest route to the teleporter?”

“Through that locked door, I’m afraid,” he motioned with his thumb to the factory door. “But we’ll have to deactivate the security lock from,” he gulped, “up there.” He shivered, looking up at the office.

Clank and Sasha both puzzled over this conundrum.

“Okay, then,” the Captain bit her lip. “No backdoor, no weapons--”

“Pardon me, but,” Clank chuckled, pointing to the crates they sat behind. “I believe we are up to our ears in weapons.”

Sasha turned to study the shipping label for the first time. Lancers, and a few stacks over were Pulse Rifles.

“Given out current circumstances, I am certain Mr. Fizzwidget wouldn’t mind,” Clank answered the unspoken question on the Captain’s mind.

“Then let’s gear up,” Sasha replied. She and Clank worked silently on opening a crate close to the floor by them while the security bot kept a shaky eye on Shellshock above.

The crate lid gave a lot of resistance, but then it gave a sudden jolt and clattered to the floor.

Fizzwidget jumped awake. “Whozit, whatzit?!” He looked around, bewildered to find himself not in his office, or more preferably, at home. Sasha motioned him emphatically to stay quiet.

But it was too late. Shellshock had also heard and looked out the window, jumping to his feet when he noticed his prisoners gone. “No’ on ma watch! Most defini’ly no’ on ma watch!” He forgot the camera footage on the computer screens, showing Ratchet and Qwark’s progress through the building, and stepped outside the office. He chuckled, despite his surprise, and telequipped a blaster to his hands. “Now tha hunt is on, mates!”

***

“Uh, Ratchet?” Qwark’s nervous voice broke over the communications.

Ratchet crawled a few more feet and waited for the ProtoPet to turn around a corner before speaking up. “What is it now, Qwark?”

“I found more. These things seem to be attracted by my Plasma Coil’s blasts,” Qwark chuckled halfheartedly. “They scarf it down like—yow! Hey, hey! Don’t bite the hand that feeds ya, pal!”

Ratchet took a deep breath. He didn’t have time for this.

“Bad Fuzzball, bad! Now, Bluebell, what did I tell you about drinking out of that?” Qwark scolded over the headset. Little fierce growls from the ProtoPets in the background accompanied the green hero’s short yelps.

Ratchet paused in his crawl for a moment. “Wait, they like the Plasma Coil?”

“Yeah, everything else is just an _hors d'oeuvre_ at a spoiled kid’s quinceanera.”

“Let’s use that,” Ratchet telequipped his own Plasma Coil. “See if you can lure them into some kind of trap, an empty room or something where they won’t get into much trouble.”

“I always wanted to play the shepherd in holiday plays!” Qwark gasped happily. “Get along little fuzzies! Heeya!”

Ratchet made his way down the bend in the ventilation shaft and spotted the ProtoPet he had been following. It heard him and turned around. It seemed harmless enough. Now he understood just what Qwark was saying. It was hard to think of ever harming these things. “Why’d you have to be a pet?” Ratchet groaned.

The sound of blaster fire came from a nearby grate. Ratchet almost immediately forgot about the ProtoPet and inched forward towards the grate. The ProtoPet hobbled up next to him and began sniffing the Plasma Coil. It purred and started licking at it.

Ratchet ignored it for the moment and scanned the area, trying to find out where the fight was at.

Just his luck, it was the factory! From his vantage point, he could see everything. Sasha, Clank, and two others were pinned down behind a shipment of crates while Shellshock stalked through the maze of machinery searching for them. The ex-soldier had fired a shot at a stack of crates, disappointed that his captives weren’t behind it.

Ratchet quickly surmised that Shellshock would be content with blasting each stack of crates until he found the group. Something else caught Ratchet’s attention, a stack of crates nearby the prisoners labeled Fusion Grenades. “Oh, no!” He hissed. There were fifteen crates minimum, but that was more than enough to send this place sky high if Shellshock didn’t pay attention to where he was firing.

The ProtoPet had started chewing on the sharp edges of the Plasma Coil. Realizing that Ratchet wasn’t going to be feeding it anytime soon with the fuel tanks in the blaster, the creature grew angry. It bared its teeth and bit Ratchet’s arm.

Ratchet yelped and instinctively wrapped an arm around the ProtoPet, yanking it off and covering its mouth before covering his own. He could still hear his voice echo around the factory.

A blaster shot was fired up at the ventilation system. The short section gave out and dropped Ratchet and the ProtoPet onto the conveyor belt below. Dizzy, Ratchet looked up at where he had fallen from. Shellshock’s face came into view, an ugly smirk on his face.

“Where are ya friends now?” the robot cackled. He then picked up Ratchet by the cuff of his armor and the ProtoPet by its antenna. Neither liked it and kicked at the robot. “I should throw you two in a room and see who comes out on top. Ha!”

Sasha, Clank, and the rest of the group looked on from behind the crates.

“Now’s our chance, ma’am!” The security bot whispered, ready to bolt for the staircase up to the office.

“No,” Sasha scolded and looked down at Clank. “Uh…?” Should she be more concerned with the civilians? Or should she help Ratchet? She would rather everyone get out of here alive.

Clank finally had come up with a plan. He nodded at Fizzwidget and the elderly robot, “You two make your way to the office above. Captain Phyronix and I shall cover you from here.”

“You mean,” the CEO, shaken by all that he had to take in all at once—what a rude awakening!— “you’re not coming with?”

“If we all work together, we may be able to stop this villain and get out of here safely without bringing any harm to anyone,” Clank continued. “Sir,” he addressed the security bot, “you are ranked with privilege to guard such a facility as this.”

“But the more we talk, the less likely there will be a MegaCorp in this galaxy,” Sasha concluded, hoping to cut their pep talk brief. It was enough to make the two civilians reconsider their timidity and give them reason to fight. For the old security bot, to perform his duty. For Fizzwidget, to save his factory, and hopefully redeem himself, though he would wait just a while longer before bringing up his faults before these two officers.

“That’s right!” The businessman stood up straighter, pulling at his lapel. “MegaCorp is an equal opportunity industry, so then we all have the opportunity, the duty to defend this house of merchandised merchandises!” He turned seriously towards his employee. “Let’s go show what MegaCorp is all about and take this chump to the cleaners.”

“Yes, sir!” The old robot was coming to life, encouraged by the energy around him from this group of heroes. He himself might be a hero, the thought making him all the braver.

The two then got up and made their way through the maze of crates, leaving Sasha and Clank to plan further on how to get Ratchet safely away from Shellshock and that little blue monster. They peered around the crates again and saw Shellshock marching back to the office. Sasha’s fur bristled. “So much for that speech!”

“We must hurry!” Clank was equally distressed and they quickly crept along the factory floor behind the villain.

“Boy, is Ace gonna like this!” Shellshock grinned. “I’m sure ta get more than my fai’ share of Bogonian property. Maybe I can convince him ta give me that warm, sauna planet.”

Ratchet kept trying to telequip some weapons to his hands, but the back of his head hurt from that fall and it was hard to focus. “You’re doing this for a land grab?”

“Sure am, an’ Bogon’s planets a’ rich for tha takin’!”

“No they’re not! Other people live on those planets,” Ratchet was trying hard not to think of what happened to Novalis, how all those people lost their homes because he couldn’t stop the Deplanetizer. He had to focus. _Come on, Lancer. Arbiter. Anything!_

“Then I get some cheap labor out of ‘em, make ma’self a new competitor business for Gadgetron. Except, after this riot, there won’t be no Gadgetron or MegaCorp for tha’ matta’.”

Ratchet gave up with the weapons. Maybe there was another way to distract him until he could find a new escape plan, find his weak spot. “And what does Ace get out of this?”

“Oh, do I hav’ ta give his backstory fo’ ‘im too? I betta get anotha planet,” Shellshock grumbled, weaving his way back through the mess he had made with the spilt crates and busted conveyor belts. Ratchet cringed when they walked past another shipment of Fusion Grenades, thankfully, but barely, missed by the earlier rampage. “Ace wants nothin’ more than ta see you lot in tha Galactic Rangers six feet unda! You stole more than his job, but his liveli‘ood too. He lived ta be a hero, but then, when da Rangers came inta town, he lost government funding, his house, and I think there was a mix-up with ‘is girlfriend in there somewhere.”

Ratchet noticed Shellshock had a bit of a limp in his right knee. The Ranger let himself swing in the ex-soldier’s grasp. There was also a crate of Lancers that had burst open nearby.

“He became desperate for money and, here we are!” Shellshock concluded.

“Yup,” Ratchet swung himself forward and brought his heel down full-force on the robot’s kneecap. Shellshock gave a shout and dropped him. “Thanks for the lift!” The Ranger rolled behind a conveyor belt on its side and snatched up the Lancer, jumping to his feet and running for cover.

Instead, he ran directly into Fizzwidget and the security bot, bowling everyone over into a messy pile. Ratchet gasped and pushed himself back up again. He turned around and cocked his Lancer, primed to fire as Shellshock leveled his own blaster at the group.

A blaster shot came from Ratchet’s left, knocking the weapon out of Shellshock’s hands. “Hey! Shellshock!” Sasha shouted. “Think twice before messing with the Rangers.”

Clank clopped up from behind when Shellshock tried to turn and retrieve his weapon. The villain laughed at the little obstacle. Clank frowned and shifted and grew to his new, taller height.

Sasha called over the Fizzwidget and the guard, “Go unlock the doors.”

The two complied, a little shaken, but relieved that it all was over. They ran up the stairs and into the office. Seconds later, the doors opened to the dark corridor.

“You are completely surrounded,” Clank said firmly. “Drop the ProtoPet and there will be no need to use force.”

Shellshock looked disgustedly at the growling blue creature in his hand and then back at Clank. “Catch,” he tossed it. The feral pet grabbed Clank’s shoulder with its teeth, but it wasn’t doing any real damage to the raritanium exoskeleton. Clank looked back at Shellshock, confused with such a feeble attempt to get past him.

Shellshock was already coming at him full swing and knocked his large fist into Clank’s chin, knocking him down.

“Clank!” Ratchet’s blood ran cold, but then quickly reheated into a boil as he fired a few rounds at Shellshock. No one was going to hurt his friend and get away with it!

Shellshock dodged a few blasts, jumping and rolling to the far wall. When he stood up again, he had a small device in his hand and pressed the button. He pressed the button.

Ratchet’s ears stung as a sharp, ringing noise assaulted his senses. He closed his eyes, covering his ears. When he opened them again, the world was a blur, but he felt the cold of the floor on his cheek. There on the floor a little ways away was a fuzzy brown image. Sasha, he heard the name in his mind before realizing that she was also struggling. Shellshock was running away, towards the doors that had just been unlocked.

Snarling, Ratchet let go of his ears and fumbled for his Lancer. The sound seemed to redouble and his vision blurred all the more. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he tried to locate Shellshock. He closed his eyes and fired before hitting the floor again.

Shellshock was just at the doors when the blast struck the wall next to him. Laughing, he continued out into the hall, glad his Plan B was working. Though, Ace wouldn’t be happy that it came to this, that they’d still be alive. But, Shellshock tried to reason with himself as he traversed the dark hallways, lit up by his military programmed night vision, they might be here a while. “Just need ta get Ace’s A-okay to blow tha place sky-high. We’ve got enough weapons anyway, right?” He was unsure, wondering if he had better take his chances with the Rangers than go back and face Ace with either a destroyed weapons factory or an unsuccessful mission.

“Heeya!” A voice boomed in the dark.

Looking behind him, down another portion of the hall, Shellshock’s optics widened. “No!” He was buried under dozens of hungry ProtoPets. Qwark came up from behind the wave and grinned, a ProtoPet biting his elbow, but the green hero could care less, despite his bruised and disgruntled appearance.

“Sayonara, hombre!” He couldn’t brag for long, though, as he heard a shout come from the factory. “Don’t worry, cadets! Private Qwark is on his way!” Charging forward, the green hero leapt through the doors of the factory—

And landed flat on his face. “Arugh!” He grunted, trying to keep the loud noise from getting through his helmet.

Ratchet didn’t know how much more he could handle. “Pawl,” he growled through the comms. “Angela!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Come back next time to see how Angela and Pawl are handling things with Eviscerator and what they could do to help the group back on their feet (literally).


End file.
